


Spiral: The Unimaginable Part Three

by juliesioux



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Character Death In Dream, Declarations Of Love, Dreams, Dreamscapes, F/M, Forgiveness, Healing, Healing Sex, Love, Nuclear Winter, Oral Sex, Post-Nuclear War, Sex, Shower Sex, Spiral - Freeform, The Endless - Freeform, The Sandman - Freeform, True Love, havenrock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 141,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliesioux/pseuds/juliesioux
Summary: This story pics up one month after the end of The Unimaginable. It finds Oliver and Felicity attempting to find a place of normalcy and peace in the wake of Havenrock and their past breakup.Felicity is haunted though and needs to find her own journey separate from Oliver's. This means facing her decisions, her mistakes and her own dreams with the unlikely assistance of Death (from The Sandman series). Oliver, in turn, must finally face his own schism when it comes to who he is, who he wants to be and how that all plays together in his relationship with Felicity. He finds his own guide in his dreams from the Sandman himself, Morpheus of The Endless.I love writing this story and used, once again, the Hamilton Soundtrack as my guide. It's Quiet Uptown and That Would Be Enough are my lighthouses at the moment. #sorrynotsorry





	1. Introduction, Prologue and Interlude Part One

 

 

** **

 

 

 

**Spiral: The Unimaginable Part Two**

**Introduction**

**Spiral - a definition**

                                                                       

 

_In science and nature, the spiral is seen in everything from teeth, to shells, horns, the florets of flowers (like sunflowers), and the shape of galaxies throughout universe. The spiral is most often described as a curve which emanates from a point, moving farther away, or closer together, as it revolves around the point._

_In terms of spirituality, the spiral can represent the path leading from outer consciousness (ex., external awareness, ego, outward perception) to the inner soul (ex., enlightenment, unseen essence, cosmic awareness). Movements between the inner (intuitive, intangible) world and the outer (matter, manifested) world are mapped by the spiraling of archetypal rings; marking the evolution of humankind on both an individual and collective scale._

_Most importantly within this story, in terms of rebirth or growth, the spiral symbol represents the consciousness of nature beginning from the core or center and expanding outward._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_**Prologue** _

_The streets of Star City rumbled and shook. Not from an earthquake but elements of the criminal underworld reforming itself in the void left by Damien Darhk. The evilness of his plans now thwarted, the city was ripe for the taking._

_Yet the citizens, who were turning a blind eye to certain telltale signs of violence and mayhem, were themselves busy rebuilding and healing after so many coordinated attacks on their way of life, their homes, their families and futures. The city had come to life and was celebrating everything about it that made it unique and vibrantly resilient. From the suburbs to the inner city to the struggling Glades, people were rebuilding in the face of continued destruction all because they believed in the city and each other._

_On rainy nights, storefronts would extend their awnings over the sidewalks, providing shelter for passersby. The sweet scent of roses from flower shops would waft faintly in the warm, wet, night air and the soft laughter of happy couples walking arm in arm through well-lit downtown streets provided the music that the city needed to soothe its slowly returning soul. The rising pulse of the businesses, whether they be restaurants, bookstores or grocery stores, and the returning population was one of relief and joy._

_The docks were slowly returning to normal during the day. Ships and cargo moved seamlessly through waterways no longer choked with debris from the last attempt to dismantle the city. Parks workers, gruff and surly to each other, worked diligently to repair inner city playgrounds for the poorest children in Star City. They took secret pleasure at the joy that would light up the small faces when the gates were officially opened and at the sounds of laughter as it rang out on clear, fall mornings._

_Oliver and Felicity watched the returning life with a cautious eye. By now they had both been witnessed to the worst humanity could bring to the table and suffered losses that had left enormous scars in their minds, hearts and spirits. The glittering, rain drenched streets were an illusion designed to lull them, they were sure of it. So they remained vigilant, watching closely to the way the docks breathed at night._

_They were the lungs of the city. Once so cancerous and blocked, that the water ran black no matter the time of day. They belched smoke, gas and oil fumes, and some days the sun avoided trying to touch the ground altogether. In its place, the air left a grimy, sludge all over every shiny surface. Nothing was left untouched or unmarked, including the consciences of the men and women who made their profit in the inky shadows between the tankers._

_Day or night, it didn’t matter, the docks hummed with a tumultuous energy that never stilled. It would grow in volume before settling back into a steady, deep buzz that made Oliver’s skin feel like it was trying to slide off his body. He loathed the docks and did everything he could to avoid them during the day but dove in head first at night. He merged with the shadows and dealt justice swiftly and surely. The night time was his element and he made use of every second of it._

_Yet the city’s unending greenspace, its parks and surrounding mountains and forests, cooled the ocean breeze and masked the grotesque underbelly of a city in flux and almost neverending renewal. It was part of what drew Felicity to the city a few short years ago. It was alive and singing at all hours of the day and night._

_The perfumes of the gardens and forests, when all was in bloom were intoxicating and drew her out to the streets in the morning and out to parks in evening. She sought out the source of the sweet scent of cedar, pine and roses. They were a balm that soothed her soul before the dark of night would seep slowly from one horizon to the other._

_She didn’t fear the night, it held its own mystique, but the day held so much promise, light and sound. It sang to her. The night time had a rhythm, a deep, pounding bass that vibrated under her feet that drove her indoors. Oliver came alive at night, she loved to watch him slowly emerge from the confines of the day and wander out into the dark, free and alive even as she retreated. In their own ways, they kept each other safe in the dark hours after midnight but with Oliver it was more than a job or mission, it was a calling._

_When it rained, the streets were washed clean of the grime of the day and they glittered and shone. It was like the two sides of the city would merge. The rain would vibrate and jump up off of the pavement; defying gravity and reach back to the sky that it had fallen so gracefully from._

_There was beauty and pain on the streets of Star City and in the centre of it all, a silence built on the intersection of nature and concrete. Both Oliver and Felicity sought that quiet space out, weaving it to the fabric of their souls and feeling it in the soft echo between their heart beats. In their own way, they danced with the song of the city but it was the silence that held all of the love that formed the bond between them. Yet, what held them together was now slowly driving them apart._

_By way of distraction, they were focused on areas of the city shrouded in constant darkness. Areas that no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t bring back to life. There were cracks in the pavement and something was leaking out, something amorphous yet oily. It clung to every surface, coating skin, poisoning the air and it was slowly gaining power as it swirled around the edges of the city._

 

 

 

**Day One - Interlude Part One**

_Stealthily and alone_  
_The city welcomes its Hero_  
_Back into its heart._

**I**

Oliver had no idea how it happened. The change in Felicity took place so gradually that even when he tried to figure out when the shift in her behaviour began, he came up blank. There was no singular incident, it simply came to pass that she slipped away from him like a shadow.

Over the course of a month she had drifted away, floated free from his orbit and now he was dangerously out of balance with himself, with her, and with the city. He couldn’t connect fully to anything and his frustration was growing. He had begun spending more and more time away from the team and from his obligations as mayor. It was a bit of a dance between them, this push and pull, and it was made worse by the reports of how devastating the nuclear bomb had been on Havenrock.

The damage done to the land, air and surrounding watershed was now causing cancers in surrounding towns and villages that dotted that coastline. With every new report, Felicity shrank into herself, becoming smaller and unreachable. She did it so quietly that he failed to notice her silence, her stillness, and her slow withdrawal from life.

As he sat on a hidden ledge between two rundown buildings late one rainy night, he let his mind wander for just an instant and it hit him like a fist between the ribs. He remembered the way she had evaded his eyes earlier in the lair, how she had been quick to move away from his reach should he try and touch her, how she had held her arms tightly to her sides so as to not allow any accidental contact between them. It wasn’t the first time it had happened but it was the first time he had noticed.

Oliver felt his world turn sideways and had to sit back against the cold, wet brick wall to prevent himself from falling. He had been so absorbed in training the new recruits and attempting to be Mayor that he hadn’t felt her untether herself and float away. Now he wasn’t sure if he could catch her before she spiralled away from him completely but he knew he had to try.

The city was quiet now that Tobias Church had gone underground. He was nervous about what that might mean in the future but for right now, it meant he had time to step into the path of her retreat and do what he should have done a lot sooner after Havenrock. His reticence to actually set himself in motion as someone who could help her was a pattern with them, one that needed to be broken, and he finally needed to be of service to her like she so often was to him.

A sudden crash from the alley below him pulled his attention back to his immediate surroundings. He focused in on a young woman making a hasty retreat away from a group of young men who were shouting taunts at her. He could see the fear in her eyes as she looked for somewhere, anywhere to hide, or run to safety.

She was alone and terrified and now, unfortunately, backed into a dead end.

His frustrations with Felicity bubbled to the surface and with a quiet growl, the Green Arrow dropped down to the alley in front of her with hardly a sound beyond the creaking of his leather pants. He could feel a mounting anger beginning to course through his veins like white hot fire and turned his angry gaze on the five young men who entered the alley behind the young woman.

“You do not want to be here,” he growled through his voice disguiser.  
“Oh yeah? There are five of us and one of you,” jeered one overly brave young man.

The Green Arrow eyed them up. At first glance, two of the young men looked large and imposing but they fidgeted slightly under his stare. They would be easy to remove from the equation and he would take them out first.

One of the young men looked like he would run at the first chance he got. His body was already angled towards the street and he was casting nervous glances out of the alley. He took a hesitant step towards the left of the alley opening and Oliver knew he would bolt at the first sign of violence.

The remaining two would be the problem. They were both carrying unseen weapons, most likely knives, and were carefully stepping out from the central pack in an effort to flank him. Oliver narrowed his eyes and waited. He needed them to be just a few more inches out before he could make his move.

When they shifted another foot, he acted faster than any of the men could react. With his left hand he threw two flechettes low, slicing through the Achilles Heels of both men in front of him. They dropped to the ground wailing in agony. Blood, black and viscous in the light of the moon, pooled underneath their now crippled legs and as expected, the fifth young man bolted for safety without once looking back to see how his friends were fairing.

Now he was left with the two armed men. They were predators only wanting to hurt or kill whoever crossed their paths. Man, woman, youth, child, Oliver doubted it mattered to them. Power and control were the only things that mattered and if death happened, they wouldn’t bat an eye.

This was his father’s legacy in bright living colour.

“I wouldn’t do anything stupid,” the Green Arrow growled at them.  
“No need to worry about us, you should be more worried about you,” the man to his left snarled.  
“First you then the blonde,” laughed the one on the right.

At the mention of ‘blonde’, Oliver’s vision went red and the roar in his blood deafened him. His fists tightened and in a blur of movement Oliver lashed out with his bow, striking the man on the left hard along the side of his torso. Spinning, he landed a high kick on the other man’s arm. He felt and heard the sickening crack of bone and the man shrieked in pain.

Oliver finished him off with a vicious haymaker and then turned his complete attention onto the remaining man. He was snarling at Oliver, knife drawn, he lunged with the intent on stabbing or slashing him. Oliver sidestepped him and drew an arrow from his quiver, notching it in one fluid motion.

“Think this through,” Oliver commanded.  
“I’ll kill you when I catch you.”  
“Have it your way,” he smiled as he released the arrow. He felt the soft swoosh of the passing air and sound of the meaty thunk as it hit its target. Oliver opted to maim, not kill, and the arrow sunk deep into the man’s upper thigh.

The man gasped and then collapsed like a house of cards to the ground, knife slipping from his hand as he pressed down over the wound.

“You’ve killed me,” he said in shock.  
“No, I have stopped you from killing someone else,” Oliver snarled as he hit the man in the face with a right cross which knocked him out cold.

“Th-th-thank you,” came a soft voice behind him.  
“You should go now. Always be aware of your surroundings.”  
“I will,” the young woman said softly as she slipped past him and into the night.

She couldn’t be much older than Thea, he thought sadly. The city was still not a place for women to walk safely and as Mayor he needed to do better by them.

Oliver stood for a moment, disconnected from the scene around him, and surveyed the damage he had caused to four men in the space of one minute. He felt as though he were in the eye of a hurricane, in that pressure filled stillness that masked unrelenting chaos, and he sensed that beyond this momentary quiet was a madness he could drown in. The men, bleeding and screaming in agony, were two dimensional, cardboard cut outs with no substance or meaning that he stepped over on his way out of the alley.

If he lost the tenuous connection he had with that part of his psyche that could feel empathy, which could recognize pain in others, he would become that man he thought he left on the island again. As Felicity drifted away from him, he drifted back to the man the Bratva had created. That man, that killer and weapon, was the man who threatened to follow him out of the alley and now floated behind him like a shadow attached to his skin.

 

II

Long after midnight, Oliver made his way back to the bunker and shamefully hoped no one would be waiting there. His mood was dark and all he wanted to do was get out of his suit, check his bow, grab some food, take a shower and go to bed. Conversation and mission discussion was the very last thing he wanted to do.

Luckily, the lights were low and the computers were dark meaning no one was there. On late nights like this he would normally stay at the bunker instead of going home or to Felicity’s to relax and regain some of his strength for the morning. But not tonight. No, tonight his energy wasn’t waning, it was simmering to a boil under his skin, threatening to take shape and launch into violent action. He had half a mind to turn around and head back out but knew he was far too tired to be of any use.

As he passed the comms station, he noticed that while the central screen at Felicity’s station was dark, it was not off like the rest. Narrowing his eyes, he made his way up to it and turned it on. Oliver expected to see some kind of diagnostic running but instead what he saw was a tracking program running both there and remotely from their servers.

She was tracking him.

He felt his breath leave his body in a rush of instant rage. As his vision clouded behind a red mist, he shut down her remote link and then the computer in order to make sure she couldn’t restart the program from wherever she was and then slammed his bow onto the desk.

He stood there, stock still at her station, and closed his eyes in an effort to rein in his anger and calm his mind. There was no way he could rest tonight if he didn’t focus his mind, calm his heart and let go of his rage. It was pointless to be this angry with her, with the night, with the men who challenged him, and with himself for failing to see just how far from him Felicity had wandered. Oliver knew he needed to talk to her, to figure out the root of the problem but not yet.

 _Not yet, he thought as he slowly breathed out his anger._  
_Not yet, he thought as he replayed the events of the night over in his head._  
_Not yet, he thought with a growing sense of sadness, but when?_

Absently, he felt his phone vibrate in his inner suit vest. He left it where it was. It could only be one person calling him this late at night and while he ached to hear her voice, he wasn’t ready to listen just yet. He wasn’t sure what was making him so angry but something was pushing at him and he was glad for the space and quiet.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened up and made his way to the weapons station and deposited his bow. He knew his anger was about his own inattention to the signals she had been flying the past month. It was something he had promised himself and her that he would try to not do again. Yet, here he was, alone in the lair and frustrated with how they still managed to move past each other in a never ending dance of protecting the other from the darkness that lurked at the edges of their lives.

He was so lost in thought that he failed to hear the elevator door open across from where he stood. What brought him back to the present was the soft staccato tap of Felicity’s heels across the polished concrete floor. Turning, he watched her as she cast a glance at the silent computer bank and then at him.

Her eyes flashed with chaotic energy, a look he knew well after four years of discovering who she was under the carefully crafted appearance of computer genius and superhero. He knew she was gearing up with for a fight with him and he was confused as to what he had done. Not knowing fueled his frustration so he turned to face her, ready for whatever she had to say.

“Why did you turn my computer off?” she demanded.  
“Because you were tracking me and since I am done for the night, you no longer need to,” he answered in a clipped, angry tone.  
“I only do it so that you are safe, Oliver.”  
“Then why aren’t you at the coms?”  
“I...I was upstairs,” she faltered, “I needed to be above ground.”

Oliver looked at her and saw the dark circles under her eyes and the way her hair wasn’t quite all in her ponytail. They had been sleeping in their own beds the last few nights and so he had no idea that she wasn’t actually taking advantage of the peace and quiet. He felt his shoulders slump and all the fight left him.

“Talk to me,” he said softly.  
“Oliver…,” she sighed wearily, looking down at her hands so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes.  
“No,” he said firmly but gently, “Talk to me.”

She looked up at him and he watched as tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks. He was across the floor and pulling her into a reluctant embrace. She fought him for just a moment, like the idea of comfort and love was somehow an irritation to her skin and heart, but she gave in to the firm hold he had on her and gripped him as tightly as she could.

“What is it, love?” he asked in a choked voice, “What is it?”  
“I don’t know,” she said through her tears, “I feel like I can’t breathe when I am down here. I feel like I am suffocating and I don’t know why.”  
“What do you need from me?”  
“This. Just...just this.”

Oliver held her and could feel the seething anger leave her body. He knew that where there was anger, there was almost always pain underneath, swirling and churning deep within. He had lived that existence. Alone even though he came home to family and friends, he thought he was facing life being lost in a sea of pain, regret and guilt.

Until her.

“Let me get changed and I’ll take you home,” he suggested quietly.  
“Will you come upstairs first? Sit in our garden?” she asked softly.

Oliver smiled. Somewhere along the way, she had started calling it their garden. Their combined efforts had created it out of so much horror and destruction that to see it now, full of flowers and life, was to see love in action. It humbled and overwhelmed him but when they were in it, alone together, it was perfect.

It was the reminder he needed when he felt the darkness beginning to close around him. To keep living until he felt alive again, for himself, for her, for the city and all who lived within it. There were moments though, times like this, when she needed his strength and endurance. That in order for her to remember how to live, he had to show her what it was like to be alive.

He knew she was still covered in invisible wounds that required the tender gift of time in order to heal. He loved her with a timeless, effortless energy that meant he felt no obligation to provide her the space to find her way to wholeness. It was something he gave freely and with a great sense of honour that she trusted him enough to lay herself raw in front of him.

Felicity took a small step away from Oliver, slipping gently out of his embrace. Taking his hands between hers, she kissed his bruised knuckles and calloused palms. Oliver blinked rapidly and breathed through exquisite tenderness of her lips on his skin. With a smile that failed to erase the sadness in her eyes, she turned and left.

Her footsteps were quieter this time. They lacked the ferocious, angry, chaotic energy she came down with earlier and had calmed down. They weren’t communicating and that was something that he knew they could work out.

With a sigh, Oliver changed out of his leathers. He grabbed a quick shower and snack and then headed up to see what he could do to ease the tension between them.

 

III

“Felicity?” he called out.  
“Out here!” came the muffled reply.  
“Isn’t it a bit cold out there?” he asked as he slipped through the French doors, hidden by two tall bookcases. He had slipped a fleece sweatshirt on because he suspected she would already be out in the courtyard waiting for him.

He pulled up short when he saw the garden. She had strung tiny fairy lights through the trellises and wrapped them around the various pots and planters. The overall effect created a soft, hazy light that seemed to cloak them with its radiance. An outdoor clay fire pit was crackling softly in the centre of the small patio and he could feel its soft heat on his exposed skin.

“When did you get this?” he asked in surprise.  
“Today, I wanted it for these crisp fall nights,” she said from the small outdoor couch. She motioned him over and made room next to her, “Do you like it?”  
“I love it,” he said with a weary sigh as he sat down, “It is the perfect way to end the night.”  
“I’m...I’m sorry I wasn’t at the comms. I felt like I was suffocating,” she said quietly as she rubbed his arm, “I needed to be away from it but I didn’t want to leave you without some backup.”  
“What is it, Felicity? What is going on?” he coaxed gently.  
“It’s only been about a month for us, Oliver...I am still...I mean, I am happy but…”  
“Felicity, honey, you aren’t exactly making sense.”  
“I know,” she smiled in a way that Oliver saw as something filled with melancholy and self-doubt, “I am happy we are working our way back to something wonderful, I can feel that, but sometimes I feel this weight on my chest and I can’t breathe.”  
“Maybe we should go away for the weekend,” he suggested carefully, watching her expression to see if it was the right thing to say.  
“To our cabin on the cliff?” she smiled gently.  
“Anywhere you want. Bali, Positano, Colorado, the moon…,” he smiled back. Oliver felt the stress of not knowing ease from around his heart.  
“I’ll be…enough one day,” she said sadly.  
“Felicity…”  
“It’s ok,” she said quickly, cutting him off before he could finish his thought, “look around, Oliver. Look at where we are. We’ll be ok. I’ll be ok. Ok?”  
“Ok,” he agreed reluctantly.  
“It’s miraculous that we are where we are,” she chuckled, “Let’s just know each other. That would be enough, for now.”

That was good enough for Oliver. It was better than the last time he brought up leaving town. She refused to speak to him for three days except on the comms. She had been furious to the point where she was shaking with rage but Oliver saw the raw pain underneath all that fury. Felicity was a raw and open wound behind the walls she had erected to safeguard her heart and she had thought he was suggesting they run away again. When they were out of sync their communication became a tornado, lashing them with the debris of the past.

“So what are we doing up here?” he asked softly as opened his arms to her.  
“I just thought it might be a nice way to decompress. What happened out there tonight?” she asked as she slipped into his embrace.  
“The usual. Group of men decide they want to rape one woman. Green Arrow intervenes and saves said woman. Group of men need medical attention and possible surgery.”  
“Oliver...whatever happened to restraint? You know that when you do that the SCPD gets nervous.”  
“I DID show restraint,” he said, “they were going to kill that young woman. They tried with me but…”  
“No one gets the drop on you,” she chuckled as she ran her hand up under his shirt.

Oliver smiled down at her. She wasn’t forgiving him, but she was understanding him and that made his heart feel lighter, like it was trying to escape the weight of the violence his world was often mired in. This woman, this thunderously regal woman, could still light the way for him to find the way out of the wilderness in his soul.

“Felicity, I promise to try to not hospitalize all the people I encounter doing bad things,” he teased.  
“How about only half the people you encounter? The hospital is overflowing these days,” she teased back. The hand that had worked its way up his shirt was now wandering down, tracing scars and muscles above the waistband of his pants.  
“Hon,” he said in a low voice, “Whatcha doing?”  
“Hmmmm?” she answered as her hand slipped underneath the waistband and gently stroked the soft skin of his lower pelvis.  
“This will only end one way,” he warned.  
“I know,” she answered with the heat of passion wrapped around each word.

Oliver could feel the heat between them increase and was grateful that he had locked the elevator behind him. As she climbed over him and straddled his hips, he let the stress of the day flow out of him as her lips met his.

They had been through so much together. Some things had broken their hearts and driven them apart but then there were the things that brought them together and forged the bond between them that appeared to be unbreakable. It was like the broken pieces that lurked deep within them were guiding their hearts on the path forward.

“My place or yours?” he asked softly.  
“You have a place?” she teased.  
“A hotel suite is a place,” he explained.  
“It’s closer than mine,” she mused, “Let’s go. Or we could stay here...”  
“No,” he smiled, “Let’s go.”

The hotel Oliver was staying at while he looked for some place to live was around the corner from the bunker. He changed the route he would walk back to it on a nightly basis out of habit. Tonight, it was as straight a line as they could manage from the front door of her office to the front door of the Fairmont Hotel.

“Have you had any dinner?” she asked as they exited the elevator on the top floor of the building where Oliver’s suite was.  
“I grabbed a snack before I came up to see you and I have a kitchen in here,” he said as he opened the door and pulled her into the suite.  
“Ooooo! Are you going to make us breakfast in the morning?”  
“Of course,” he said with a wink, “I value my life.”

Laughing, Felicity wandered into the living room and stood in front of the enormous plate glass window. Slipping out of her heels, she soon got lost in thought as she gazed out at the city. Oliver silently made his way across to her and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her back piece by piece to the shared moment.

“You smell amazing,” he murmured as he kissed her neck.  
“Bali perfume, your favourite,” she hummed.  
“Felicity,” he said in mock seriousness, “I feel like this is a trap.”  
“How so?” she laughed.  
“You know I can’t resist the pull of that island.”  
“That was my most fervent wish,” she said softly as she turned around in his embrace so that she was facing him.

From that point on, no more words were spoken. Oliver would look back at this night and remember only the way she had pulled him with her through moments so full of tenderness, love, passion and abandon that his heart had stood still. He was powerless to stop her and even if he could have, he knew that he wouldn’t have attempted to.

And it all began with a kiss.

A kiss full of a powerful urgency, as her tongue slipped past his lips and danced around his, exploring his mouth and leaving him grasping onto her with all his might. Her fingers threaded through his short hair before moving downward, past the sensitive skin at the base of his neck, past his shoulders and down his back.

He felt her fingertips against the roughened skin of his lower back as she pushed her fingers under the waistband of his pants. Her hands were warm and soft against the unmarked skin of his lower pelvis and he felt himself harden in response. His body was beyond his control and he had no qualms in relinquishing it to her.

Felicity unzipped his pants and paused to help him take off his shirt. Without her heels on, she was level with his chest and he sometimes teased her by resting his chin on top of her head. Now, as he gazed down at her, he saw the woman he worshipped. Felicity looked up and smiled softly at him before running her hands up his chest and down his arms.

Turning around, she moved her hair out of the way of the zipper that ran down the entire length of her dress. Oliver took a moment to run his hands over her body. She was firm but supple and he could feel her body respond to him, like a guitar string pulled too tight.

Slowly, he moved the zipper down an inch at a time. He wanted to tear the dress off of her but he felt compelled to move slowly, gently and with a restraint that bordered on caution. Inch by inch her back, which was now a roadmap of violence and terror, revealed itself to him. The scars overlapped each other and he reverently touched them, sending visible shivers down her spine. Pushing the dress off of her shoulders, Oliver bent down and kissed the first bullet wound scar she got while saving Sara from the Clock King. He always made it a point to honour her wounds as a way to seek her continued forgiveness.

Shifting the zipper all the way down to the bottom of her dress, he pushed the dress all the way off of her. Felicity turned back towards him and eased back into his embrace. As she pressed her body against his, she helped him remove his pants and gently grasped his hardening cock.

From there it was simply a matter of how quickly they could make it to the bedroom before their seemingly never ending desire for each other threatened to consume them as they stood in the livingroom. Felicity took him by the hand and lead him, without the aid of any lights, to his bedroom.

Felicity was first on the bed and she shifted herself up to the pillows at the top. Oliver crawled up onto the bed, following her lead, and laid down next to her. The city was providing the light in the room and yet he could see her so clearly it was like she was lit by the sun. He had never experienced a love like this before, one that filled his heart and made him feel connected to the universe through her touch.

Tenderly, he stroked her face before slowly running his hand down her body. He could feel how her breathing changed as he explored the silky softness of her skin. Gently, he lowered his head and gently kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue as he slipped his hand between her legs, slowly pushing through her hot, silky wetness and slowly inched two fingers inside her, timing the pulsing of them with the way he sucked her tongue or bottom lip.

She began to move her hips in time with his thrusting fingers but, unable to wait any longer, Felicity pulled him over top of her and gasped softly as he seamlessly pushed inside of her. For just a moment, Oliver remembered their first night in Nanda Parbat and how her body had resisted him but then welcomed him in. The erotic thrill of it, the newness of her, all of it, was etched in his memory.

Tonight there was no waiting, she was greedy and demanding with her kisses. Her hips moved hard and fast, meeting him thrust for thrust, while not allowing him a moment to pause. Oliver finally used his strength to slow her down, conquering her need by pressing down on her pelvis and rolling his hips to the beat of their hearts.

She placed her hands on his chest and traced ancient designs over his scars in a slow, hypnotic pace. Oliver felt himself falling in love with her all over again with each pass of her fingertips over his battle hardened skin. He felt her body tighten around him, taking his breath away in a fast rush, and heard a low, deep moan from her as she clung to him.

This was when his self-discipline kicked in and he slowed even more by pushing her knees up further and burying himself deeper inside her, pressing his pelvis down onto hers, increasing the pressure as she moved closer to her release.

“God...Oliver…,” she moaned, “I love you.”

He always knew when she was ready, her body hummed and sang to his, and his responded in kind. She shuddered and quaked beneath him, her orgasm rolling through them both with bone shaking force, and he felt himself following suit. He thrust into her hard and deep and felt the heat uncoiling at the base of his spine.

There was no stopping it, he came in a hot flood inside her and with a deep growl in his throat. It felt primal and so completely right, like they were the only two people in the world. Felicity clung to him, breathing deeply with her forehead pressed against his chest. He could feel her shaking ever so slightly beneath him but when he tried to ease off of her, she held onto him even tighter.

“Felicity, what is it?” he asked in sudden concern.  
“Nothing, I just...I just don’t want you to move,” she answered softly.  
“You’re shaking.”  
“Just endorphins. I’m ok,” she reassured him.  
“Come on,” he coaxed, “Let’s get something to eat.”  
“I could go for a snack,” she said looking up at him with a smile.

Oliver ran his hands through her hair, smoothing it away from her face. Try though she might, one look at her and he could see the pain she tried to hide. It glittered like starlight on water deep in her eyes and there was nothing he could do to draw it to the surface. All he could do was wait for her to release the hold it had on her heart and be there for when the flood came.

Later that night, after he plied her with dark chocolate and strawberries, she had pulled him into the shower and, with the strength of her hands and love, she had coaxed him back to life. He made love to her standing up, under the gentle downpour from the shower head above them. His legs shook from the exertion but as she cried out, calling his name in ecstasy, the only thing that mattered was the pulsing heat of their joined bodies and the love between them.

As they slipped off to sleep, exhausted but relaxed and happy, Oliver made a promise to himself that he would not let her disappear from life again. Her hands were finally healed from the aftermath of her sledgehammering down a brick wall so now it was time to truly heal her mind and the remains of the hurt between them.


	2. Day One: Emergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we meet Death in her physical form and get a sense as to her personality. She is unlike any of the Endless and not a cold Grim Reaper.
> 
> She will be pivotal in what is to come.

**Day One: Emergence**

_Life coiled around itself  
_ _seeking its own end  
_ _and happily winked out of existence._

_There was a rumbling...and the darkness moved..._

_It was like the dark corners of the alley way the Green Arrow had exited earlier folded in on themselves. They grew darker, malevolent and eventually so black that no light could penetrate them. And then, when the dark grew so bold it seemed to have a voice, a tiny pinpoint of light blinked once...twice...and in a flash of something otherworldly, it pushed the darkness away before retreating back into nothingness._

_She stepped out of the darkness and looked around, curious as to where and when she had landed this time. The alleyway was dank and smelled of copper and something else, a stink she recognized as fear. Then she noticed the blood, glittering darkly under the streetlights, and the remnants of arrows, broken and covered in bits of flesh and gore, scattered in pools of filthy water and under garbage._

_Well, she thought brightly, wherever this place was it was just her kind of place. Full of interesting characters and lots of work for her to do if the size of that congealing pool of blood is any indication._

_Clapping her hands together, she shook her hair out of her eyes and stepped out of the alley. The city was still alive, up and down the street, so she set off in search of coffee and a donut or two. She was starving and was sure the week ahead was going to be a busy one. If not for her brother, she would have stayed away but he had pointed out that maybe there was some good she could do to help provide peace in a world that had gone suddenly upside down._

_Men and women stared at her as she walked down the street but she was oblivious to their stares. Her jeans and leather jacket, both well-worn but still as black as night, showed off a willowy figure of a young woman not quite entering adulthood but having already left behind the angles and chubbiness of youth._

_She was unaware of the way the younger men took her measure with appraising looks and elbows to the ribs of their friends when their wives or girlfriends weren’t looking. The women looked on with envy, lust or jealousy. Yet on she walked in search of the perfect cup of coffee and chocolate glazed donut._

_Just as she spotted an Italian coffee shop that was still open, an old man stepped into her path as he bent to retrieve his fallen hat, unaware that by doing so he had introduced himself to his own end. Nevertheless, he winked at her as he replaced his hat on his head and gallantly bowed to let her pass._

_Delighted, she smiled at the old man and took him by the arm. She witnessed the dying embers of his life as they glowed dimly in his eyes and decided that he would be who she would start her journey in this time and place with._

_“Come with me, kind sir,” she laughed, “Let’s go have a bite to eat!”_   
_“I could never turn down a lovely young lady like you,” he smiled back._

_So together they made their way to the coffee shop and took up seats in front of the large plate glass window that overlooked the busy downtown street. She was delighted to have such a lively companion for her first few hours in the city but as she looked at him, seeing the grey pallor with a tinge of yellow in the whites of his eyes._

_This lovely man, who was telling her loving stories of his grandchildren and children, was dying. He knew he was dying, he said without saying, but he was more than happy to spend a portion of his time with her and she honoured it by listening to him and asking him questions and laughing at his jokes._

_Later, as she parted ways with him, she stroked his wrinkled, weathered face with her soft, white hand, said her goodbyes and promised him that she would see him again soon. He smiled at her, staring into her deep blue eyes and gallantly raised her other hand to his lips and bid her a fond farewell._

_Checking her makeup in the shiny, reflective surface of the large silver ankh that hung around her neck, she turned and faced the night. Someone was out there that needed her. Not in the normal way that everyone else needed her. No, there was someone out there who had taken her place for a brief moment and was now drowning in sorrow._

_If only Morpheus were there to help her find this person but her brother was busy in one of his other countless forms, delivering dreams and messages to the sleeping. She contemplated slipping out of the physical form she wore and entering the quiet realm they shared, but a soft crying caught her ear and she sensed her work was just beginning for the night._

_Mortals, she thought, always so fearful of what lay beyond the darkness. If only they knew the peace that awaits them and the family that is longing to catch up and see them again._

_And so, with her hands jammed into her jacket pockets, Death made her way carefully through the rain slicked streets in search of the softly crying woman who had caught her attention. She was dying an unnatural death, one of the blood and vicious violence, and she was alone. If there was one thing Death refused to allow it was for the dying, especially those who were murdered, to be alone in their final moments._

_The one she was looking for would have to wait. This city was full of lost souls seeking respite and relief and until she was comfortable in her physical body, she wanted to do what she did best: take them by the hand as they left their corporeal forms and usher them to the next world._


	3. Night One: Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Felicity's POV that compliments Oliver's. I really feel it is important to see her side of the story considering so much of it is about her.
> 
> We also meet Death and Dream in her dream although they do not introduce themselves to her just yet. This was a 'Hi, nice to meet you' dream where Death is simply visiting her brother where they discuss flowers and visit the Memorial Park.
> 
> We also get to see the profound struggle going on within Felicity as she tries to manage how much she loves Oliver with her growing depression.

**Night One: Dreaming**

_She imagines a twilight noon_   
_Colours of night lighting the day_   
_And cools in the suns embrace._

I

Felicity watched as the tiny green dot on her screen moved through the streets of Star City. Oliver was on the move, most likely from rooftop to rooftop, and probably chasing someone in need of a beating. He wasn’t taking a lot of chances but he was reveling in the freedom of being on the streets on his own. His confidence and true power as a lone vigilante were increasing every night and while she worried about him, she was also unabashedly proud of him.

It was in watching him nightly do what he seemed born to do that she found a small measure of peace and calm. She put out of her mind that he was actually in danger every time he was out without physical backup and focused on making sure she was aware and watching the areas he was in for trouble. It was the least she could do.

They had only been back together for a month but some of the rough spots between them were still there. And she was struggling. Struggling under the weight of so many lost souls, under the loss of her job as CEO, with the need to keep the city safe. Oliver knew something was wrong, she could sense it, but she couldn’t put words to the weight that was pushing in on her from all sides.

Tonight something had happened that finally resonated with her. He had reached for her and she had stepped away from him. She couldn’t remember if she had done it before but the look of hurt that flashed behind his eyes almost brought her to her knees. And it pushed Oliver to take greater and greater risks. He was trying to reach her but she was stuck, locked into place in her mind and body. The words just wouldn’t come and after he left that night, the monitors had flashed too brightly and the lights had reflected off of the chrome with a white brilliance that threatened to burn her retinas.

In a panic, she had shut everything down and retreated to her office above the bunker. She could track Oliver on her tablet and if he needed her, she was on her commlink. Up here, out in their secret garden, she could breathe. She could see the sky and smell the roses Oliver had planted as a gift to her, for her.

She wanted to unpack the clay fire pit she bought and get it up and running so she could sit outside during the cooler fall months. There were also the fairy lights she had found that reminded her of that special night on the rooftop in Positano. Oliver had surprised her with such a wonderful, romantic dinner at that tiny restaurant down by the harbour. She thought of that night often. The way his hands felt on her skin, his breath on her neck, and the sense of safety she felt in his arms.

Maybe tonight, after he got in from his patrols, she could have him bring his dinner up here and they could enjoy the fire and each other’s company. She heart ached with love for him and she knew she needed to reach back and start the process of actually speaking to him. She tried calling him several a few times but he had not been able to pick up. Whether by design or by choice, she had no idea although she suspected the latter.

Finishing her decorating, Felicity sat down in front of the small but warm fire and checked on Oliver. He was downtown and moving slowly which meant he was about to engage in something. He would call if he needed her, so she settled back onto the lounger and snuggled under the woolen blanket she had brought in specifically for nights like this. She was so tired but her sleep had been interrupted by nightmares and visions of the diseased and dying the last few nights.

The bomb had wiped out Havenrock but now it was possible that it would claim more lives as the rates of cancer continued to climb in the cities and towns that surrounded it. She felt like she had become Death itself and the guilt that was worming its way into her heart was crippling her and had driven an invisible wedge between her and Oliver. She needed to talk to him and soon or risk losing him all over again. Only this time it would be her fault. Maybe during the weekend after she had some sleep, she thought with a yawn, just not yet.

_Not yet, she thought as she watched the green dot blink._   
_Not yet, she thought as the warmth of the blanket and fire lulled her to sleep._   
_Not yet, she thought as saw his face and the hurt she had left to live in his eyes, but when?_

She awoke some time later, drowsy and confused. She had no idea how long she had been asleep but it had mercifully been a dreamless nap. She checked her tablet to see where Oliver was and saw that the green dot was gone. Alarmed, she sat up and called Oliver, hoping nothing had happened to him while she slept. Getting no answer she checked her connection to the main servers and tried to connect to her computer system in the bunker only to discover that they had been shut down.

Oliver, she thought as she got unsteadily to her feet in an angry rush, he turned them off. He knows better.

Flying to the elevator and down, Felicity made her entrance into the bunker and angrily made her way to the comms station. Oliver was cleaning his weapons and unaware of her presence until the angry clack of her heels reached through the haze of thought he had allowed himself to sink under. She watched him square his shoulders and attempt to rein in his own anger when he looked up and saw her stormy approach.

It hit her, as they faced off across the floor from one another with the comms centre between them, that he was just as angry as she was but his anger had foundation and reason. Her reason was simply because he shut her computer down, his was she left him alone when he may have needed her the most. The fight and heat she had brought down with her evaporated out of her blood as quickly as it had entered. She had let Oliver down in the one way she swore never to as his teammate and partner. They were both wearing their anger like armor now, designed solely to keep the other at a distance.

His kindness and concern shone through in the end. She felt it push through her, like a warm breeze, and her vision blurred with unbidden tears. She felt coiled like a spring or guitar string that had been strung too tight. She wanted to tell him everything about the dreams and nightmares when she slept alone in the loft but she felt locked in place. When she opened her mouth to speak, the words vanished and her voice was blown away on the wind.

She blinked and he was in front of her, pulling her into a tight embrace, sheltering her from a storm of her own creation. She needed to tell him before the words were lost forever but she was still irrationally angry at him cutting off her one direct line to him. So she fought him, fought to be free, but he held on. Nothing she could do would make him let go and so, with a shuddering breath, she clung to him. She gave into his embrace and found the anchor she needed to remain firmly in this world.

This was all she needed from him. His quiet strength and reassurance. Felicity felt that the darkness that was keeping her shrouded in memories that didn’t belong to her would fade to light if she could just say the words. She knew she needed to let him in once and for all but not tonight. She was exhausted but she wanted to show him what she had created above their heads.

For now the admittance that she felt like she was suffocating would have to do until she could dig deep enough and locate her courage. Taking his battle scarred in her hands in hers, she brought them to her lips and pressed a kiss onto the backs and palms of them both. They were hands that had saved her from death, stroked her to ecstasy, loved her with tenderness and the lightest of touches.

Felicity stepped silently out of his embrace and felt instantly untethered. She needed to get upstairs, away from the chrome and whirling electronics, away from everything that reminded her of the violence their world was surrounded by. She wanted to stay with Oliver, to talk to him and connect with him once more, but anxiety and panic were building deep inside her mind and she knew she needed to get up and away from the underground space before it erupted out of her in a wail of grief and pain.

With softer steps than she entered their shared space, she crossed the polished cement floor and went back up to the garden to wait for him there. With the raw anger between them temporarily soothed, she just wanted to sit with him and maybe watch the stars as they circled overhead or talk about the events of the day, to connect on a basic human level.

This is precisely what they did after he adjusted to the way the garden looked and the now cooling ceramic fire pit. It was their private Eden, filled with the flowers and plants that Oliver had so painstakingly selected and planted. Though born of pain and trauma, it was now full of so much love and hope.

Love permeated every nook and cranny of the garden. It breathed life into the darkness at night, it merged with the day and became a tangible presence that reached out and touched them back. After all the pain of the months before, their love was about to grow strong enough to keep the horrors away but for now it created a new world all their own. One she cherished even as she struggled to stay rooted in it.

Felicity focused on that feeling, that they had created something so tangible and real that it was a physical force. She could only hope that it was enough to crack through the walls they had created to keep the other out. No matter how much they loved one another there were still barriers that they needed to knock down once and for all.

She was angry with him and the chances he was taking but she understood why he was doing it. She made the decision to trust him but not forgive him. He needed to be held accountable but they also needed to work together to make sure he was kept safe when he was out on the streets alone. It was like taking a deep breath, she felt the stress of the evening drain away and the heat between them grow stronger with each passing minute.

There was never a moment when the desire to be with him wasn’t simmering beneath the surface of her skin. Their bodies were so in tune that often no words were needed because together they made symphonies happen. She was trying to stay focused on what he was talking about, she was now open to going away for a few days with him instead of feeling it was a way to escape reality when she felt the way his breathing changed.

From there it was only a matter of minutes before they were leaving the intimacy of the garden and heading off to the intimate and luxuriousness of his hotel suite. She was grateful for the chance to be somewhere other than the loft, with all of its open space, corners and gleaming edges there were moments when she couldn’t escape her reflection. She knew she had dark circles under her eyes and that she looked unrested but sleeping in a hotel bed with Oliver might just be what she needed to recover a bit of her equilibrium.

The last thing she could remember was that the night began, or ended depending on perspective, was the kiss.

There were nights when they joined together just to find a measure of peace, to touch each other’s naked skin in an act of supplication and mercy. Other nights, they joyously connected with laughter and frantic action as though they were running out of time and needed to taste the other’s pleasure before it was too late.

That night, under the distant light of the city below, they purposefully lost themselves in the moment. Felicity held onto him as though he was the only thing keeping her grounded, tethered to the earth. He would never know it but that night, as he took command of her body, it was the only thing keeping her from sinking beneath the surface of a deep well of guilt and pain.

Sleep would come well after midnight, after a long shower where she revelled in his strength and endurance, but not before she watched the moon slip slowly through the velvety black sky. Listening to Oliver’s deep, steady breathing proved hypnotic and soon she could no longer resist the pull of sleep.

 

II

 

_Felicity felt the sunlight before she saw it from behind closed eyes. She could smell the salty air and wonders if Bali awaits her when she opens her eyes. Instead, what she saw was the Memorial Park, the one Oliver had created immediately following his swearing in as Mayor. It was warm and the breeze coming in off the water carried with it the briny, ocean smell that came with low tide and she was comfortable on the park bench. A large oak tree was providing a small patch of cooling shade as the sun passed by high overhead._

_The city was a distant hum, seemingly far away, and not a soul was in the park save for a young man and woman. Felicity watched as the young woman laughed and clapped at something the young man said and she smiled at how carefree and innocent they appeared, even if the young man seemed somewhat dour and she couldn’t be sure but she detected something strange with his eyes but she attributed it to the strange glint of the sun off of the water just beyond the pair._

_She knew she was dreaming. The sky was the wrong colour for the time of day. It must be noon, or shortly thereafter, she thought, so the sky shouldn’t be twilight blue._

_But the heat of the day relaxed her and she felt her eyes begin to slowly close._

_“Excuse me!” came a lovely, feminine voice._

_Felicity snapped awake on the park bench, instantly alert and responsive to the whimsical voice that floated to her on the breeze. It was the young woman she had spotted earlier. Felicity watched her as she waved to her and began to walk over to where she was sitting._

_She was gorgeous, Felicity thought, all that black hair and creamy white skin. She is a study in contrasts but still stunning with her bright, infectious smile and twinkling eyes, Felicity felt like she was about to be greeted by an old friend._

_“Can I help you?” she asked as the young woman came closer and sat down beside her._   
_“My brother and I were having a debate. I think that the flowers over by the footpath are anemones and my brother thinks they are poppies. Would you happen to know?”_

_Felicity peered over to where the tall young man was standing and studied the flowers. She also studied the young man and changed her opinion on him being young. His hair was black, like his sister’s, but he had a kind of world weariness about him. Something old and dusty clung to his velvet coat, like time if time were visible and decaying. He looked tired and sad to her eyes and she was curious as to what his story might be._

_“I think they are poppies. They are too tall to be anemones,” Felicity answered thoughtfully._   
_“Well,” the young woman said with a pout, “Morpheus always knows his flowers.”_   
_“Are you and your brother from Star City?” Felicity asked. She cringed inwardly at the question but she didn’t want the woman to leave. There was something warm and inviting about her despite her extreme appearance._   
_“Oh no!” she said, “But we are happy visitors. Aren’t we, Morpheus?”_

_For his part, her brother shrugged his shoulders and continued his examination of the flowers at the start of the footpaths that wound their way through the wooded areas of the park. Felicity was hoping he would have turned around for her to see his eyes as he moved under into the shade of the oak and poplar trees._

_“Ignore my brother,” the young woman said with a roll of her eyes, “He loves to act aloof around new people.”_   
_“How long have you been in the city?”_   
_“Not long. We came to see this park.”_   
_“This park?” Felicity asked, instantly wary, “Why this park?”_   
_“It was made with love but after so much death and destruction,” she said with a note of reverence and seriousness in her voice, “We felt like we needed to come and pay our respects to the lost souls.”_   
_“I see,” Felicity said softly. She turned her gaze to the memorial and felt a growing sense of melancholy. That growing sense of responsibility began pressing in on her again and all she wanted to do was hide._   
_“You seem so sad!” the young woman exclaimed, “Did I say something wrong?”_   
_“No! Oh no,” Felicity said quickly, “I am just thinking about the why of this park.”_   
_“I feel like there is so much we don’t know as to the why,” the young woman sighed softly._

_Just then a flock of birds took to the air._

_Starlings, Felicity thought, and they formed a murmuration above them, flwoing into shape after shape as though a single entity instead of at least one hundred separate ones._

_Quietly, the unlikely pair watched the birds flow together in a wave of sound and action, and then split apart only to merge again. The effect was hypnotic and both women sat in companionable silence until the light faded in the sky and the stars came out one by one._

_“Well, we best be off,” the young woman said, “Do you come here a lot?”_   
_“I do. I find it peaceful.”_   
_“Then I suspect we will see you again,” she smiled at Felicity as she got up, “I think this park is just...lovely.”_

_Felicity watched the siblings reunite at the footpath and slowly wander into the gathering dark. They didn’t seek out the street lights or any safe pathways. The appeared to merge with the darkest shadows and just...vanished._

_But before they did, Felicity caught sight of Morpheus’s eyes. They were black and contained within them a galaxy of stars._

 

III

Felicity awoke with a start.

Well, she thought, that was different.

She looked at the bedroom window and saw that the sun was just lighting up the sky. It was early but not overly so. Oliver, to his credit, was still deeply asleep and snoring gently beside her. Somehow, she had moved away from him during the night and had found a pocket of warmth under the duvet all her own. The air in the hotel was cool and she didn’t feel like intruding on the day just yet.

Turning over, she studied Oliver’s sleeping face. He looked so young, almost innocent. The crow’s feet she teased him about were smoothed over, the small scars that had found their homes on his cheeks and forehead from years of fighting and brute violence had faded just enough so that they were no longer visible.

This man, she thought, this wonderful, kind, gentle giant of a man who was almost more than she could comprehend as being real, was enthralled by her.

Without thinking, she leaned towards him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

We are just two souls, she thought, who might never of met if not for his night time activities and a shot up lap top but now, their souls were connected. There were as many forms of love as there were moments in the day and when she was with him, those moments echoed through eternity.

She remembered the moment she knew she was in love with him. It came on with little to no warning, a sudden flash like when the universe shrugged itself into creation. For a long moment, she could discern no up or down, or what was north or south. She blinked out the grey of nothingness that was everything, as though day and night were merged, and saw a pinpoint of light that seemed to hold everything and nothing all at the same time before it winked and was magnificently gone.

From that pinpoint of emptiness, she watched all of creation swirl into being, like she was watching the first particle of light escape the gravitational pull of the universe, bend and fold itself, then grow and define newly emerging forms that would fall away from its path. It was as though she could see that particle of light as it hurtled through time, joining a tidal wave of energy.

Looking at him now, in the hotel room with only the light of the stars glittering dimly in the background, she could feel the cool air as it clung to them and felt cast out across time and space. It was like on the darkest nights, when the moon hid her face, and the sky above them pulsed with life long since lived, she wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers dance across her skin while she traced creation’s stories on his battered and scarred body. She would watch his beautiful face as they moved together in a wordless song on nights when they sought to join body and soul, and memorized every line and scar.

Smiling, she remembered nights spent in private places around the world, locked in a lover’s embrace under a pulsing sky. She would name the constellations while tracing them with her fingers, digging deep into the sky, grasping onto galaxies as she relived the moment were everything that wasn’t, simply was and the first photons journeyed across the fabric of space.

Now, as she lay beside him, she felt the pull of him. He was a force of nature and she would find herself drawn to him, as though her blood flowed to his tidal force. Felicity wanted him to open his eyes so she could see the way his eyes reflected the light from the city. She teased that the deep blue of his eyes in the morning were like something created by the nurseries of newborn galaxies.

Long ago, she read a quote about light attracting light, which cast shadows across the velvety denseness of space. It struck her now, in the quiet of early morning, how they had been moving relentlessly forward, like light as it moved unimpeded across a silent universe. They had found each other against all odds, when one small tear in the fabric of their life’s story could have pushed them apart.

As she slipped beneath the surface of sleep, Felicity felt the heat of his body and smiled. It was like he was lit from within and hiding a fire that burned with such intensity that she could feel it, warm and steady, as it rushed over her skin, shaking the cold numbness free from around her heart. In the cold, blue light of the early dawn, before the first rays of the sun had edged over the curve of the earth, she felt safe beneath the blanket of stars with him.

Just before sleep came to reclaim her, she imagined for just one small intimate moment as she traced shadows on his face, that the universe’s first light had completed its long, lonely journey from the creation of time, and had come to rest within him.

“Hey,” she heard him say in his softest voice.  
“Hey,” she smiled back.  
“I had a dream about you,” he murmured as he moved closer to her.  
“A good one?”  
“Always.”

Felicity chuckled as she found the spaces on his body that welcomed hers. He was a furnace and the heat of his body was something she never had to worry about finding. They sought each other out even in deepest sleep.

Without thinking, she pressed a kiss to his chest and pulled herself closer to him, waking up both of their body's internal rhythms. She felt Oliver sigh and then he tightened his embrace. Looking up at him, she caught sight of his endless desire for her before he leaned down to claim her mouth, her lips, her breath.

Although it looked like an act of surrender, she always felt in control. There were parts of his body that she knew to touch to awaken him and now, in this drowsy, pre-dawn moment, she gently stroked his lower back, just above the leathery long ago burned flesh. His cock twitched against her thigh and low moan rumbled up from him and through her.

Moving slowly, laying soft kisses down her body as he traveled down, Oliver laid claim to her. When he put his head between her legs, nuzzling the tender skin of her inner thighs gently, she shivered. Reflexively, she gripped the sheets on the bed beneath her and closed her eyes, waiting for him to decide how long he was going to make her lie beneath him, an open vessel.

His beard was longer than usual, bristly and rough on her skin, but she secretly loved it and how it would leave small scratches on her inner thighs that would sting later in the day. They reminded her of the ferocity of his attention to her most secret and sacred part. When his lips parted, and his tongue slipped through and tasted her, drinking her in like a man parched, she felt her body catch fire. A soft cry escaped her lips as she felt that familiar feeling of wonderment and indebtedness that he knew just where to touch her.

Oliver was pertinacious. He circled her clit with his tongue and increased the pressure and intensity with each pass until she felt her thighs quiver. A low, throbbing heat started at the base of her spine. Felicity felt the way it uncoiled and stretched up her spine and down her legs. Her orgasm rolled over her like thunder over the ocean. Distantly, she heard her voice telling Oliver that she loved him as another volley sounded and her hands gripped his hair.

When he pulled away, leaving her exposed to the cool air in the room, she opened her eyes and willed him to move back up her body. She wanted him more than she had words to describe and inwardly rejoiced when he rose to his knees and shifted forward, never once taking his eyes off of her own. Slowly, but seamlessly, he glided into her then held her close and still against him.

Rocking his hips slowly, it was like he was undulating against her and she clawed at his back as his pelvis met hers with tender but powerful thrusts. She was undone, flying free above them as she came again and again. And just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, his body shuddered and he moaned long and low. His orgasm took them both in a series of uneven thrusts and he came deep inside her in a series of long, hot spurts.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly, his voice loaded with sorrow and love.  
“I know,” she sighed, accepting the weight of his body and words, “I’m sorry I vanished on you.”  
“I don’t know what I would do without you. Or who I would be without you,” he said, making no attempt to move off of her, “Just talk to me. When you are ready.”  
“If you stay like this on top of me, I don’t suppose I will have a choice,” she chuckled.  
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” he retorted.  
“I love you, Oliver,” she said softly, “I just sometimes need to get lost in my mind, to figure things out.”  
“I know,” he said as he pushed himself up and off of her, “I get angry because I can’t figure out if there is something I should or shouldn’t be doing…”  
“You do everything that I need you to do. You keep me grounded.”  
“Felicity…,” he paused and looked at her with eyes that shone with love and understanding, “I love you.”

Felicity smiled at him then and gently reached to stroke his face when he caught her hand and brought it to his lips. It was such a simple, gentle action but it took her breath away. So much passed between them from this one simple gesture. Tears sprung to her eyes as she tried to breathe through the intensity of the love and trust that flowed from him to her.

“Soon, Oliver,” she murmured, “Just give me a bit of time.”  
“Always,” he smiled with a hint of melancholy creeping in, “I trust you.”  
“Let’s get up. I think you have a meeting with the new Chief of Police,” she teased gently.

Oliver let out a loud groan causing her to burst out laughing. He was still adjusting to having to meet with city officials on a daily basis but it was the early morning ones he hated the most. Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss and then escaped the warm confines of the bed and made her way into the bathroom to start the shower.

Within a moment or two as though on cue, Oliver followed her in. Looking at him, naked and relaxed, she knew their shower would not be a short one. Some mornings were like this, where they both felt the insatiable need for the other and now it was more than that. She was desperate to feel him inside her, fingers or cock, it didn’t matter, she just wanted _him_.

With the help of his body wash, she stroked him back into a hardness that left him unfocused but so full of desire and lust that all she had to do was hold on to him when he picked her up. Distantly, she heard him moan her name but all she could focus on was the way his cock felt as he thrust hard and sure inside her, with their bodies meeting with soul shattering force. When her orgasm roared through her body, he stilled his hips long enough to hold off his own release. But as she squeezed down around him, he shuddered and bucked, losing himself to her once again. With a smile, she leaned back so that the water rained down over her head and felt renewed in his embrace.


	4. Day Two - A Breather Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This told from Oliver's POV. It explores his solo dream and the people he meets within it. He has an opportunity to meet Dream and Death while getting a glimpse at the work in front of him as Oliver Queen.
> 
> In his waking world, he is acutely aware that Felicity is struggling with her own trauma and how it is creating tension between them. Part of what is keeping them apart emotionally has to do with the intricacies of how they have absorbed the damage and violence that they live in on a nightly basis.
> 
> It is a gentle chapter but not one without stakes. The Green Arrow persona that Oliver works behind may be the first hint as to what his real work is that he is facing in his dreams. He is divided from himself in a fundamental way that Dream wants him to explore. 
> 
> But first he needs to find the courage to unlock the rooms that hold the horror at bay.

**Day Two - A Breather Part One**

_Stop, she said_   
_The answer isn’t written_   
_In the stars overhead._

I

_Oliver awoke within his dream with the memory of her taste on his lips. For a brief, unbearable moment he felt her absence so profoundly, he almost forced himself awake so he could see her face or touch her silky skin. When they weren’t in sync, he felt a kind of desperation that was beyond life and death. It felt spiritual, like his existence suddenly relied on her to share her energy with him in order to survive._

_But oh, how he loved her. When he looked back over his memories of her, one slipped past. One that was full of gentle sighs, purposeful submission and a passionate love so intense, it set his soul on fire. A small smile flitted across his lips and he retraced the memory and, with grace and joy, discovers it began in her arms._

_He looked around to see where he has landed this time and saw the river that ran past the memorial park. He was glad that he had picked this place and its peaceful setting to dream in. After all the nighttime adventures he had shared with Felicity, a lone dream all his own was just what he wanted._

_“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind him._

_Oliver turned and found himself looking up into the ghostly pale face of a very tall, very strange looking man. He couldn’t decide if he was older than him by centuries or younger by decades. The man looked amused by his confusion and simply stood, his hands in the pockets of his long, black velvet coat._

_“Can I help you?” Oliver asked in confusion._  
 _“No, I was wondering if maybe I could assist you.”_  
_“I...I don’t think so.”_  
 _“Hmmm.”_

_Oliver looked at the man and blinked once, twice and tried to figure out just what he was supposed to do. He was genuinely confused and wondered if he had slipped into an alternative reality instead of a dream. Looking around again, Oliver saw that everything was normal. It was twilight and cool and definitely not a different reality. It was just a dream world created by his unconscious mind._

_“Do...do I need assistance?” Oliver asked uncertainly._   
_“So far, I don’t see any reason for you to require it.”_   
_“Ok...do you know where you are?” he asked._

_The man looked at him and smiled. It was then that Oliver noticed the man’s eyes. They were black and filled with stars. He was mesmerized by how they shimmered and swirled as the light around them shifted to a deeper blue._

_“I fear you are staring,” the man said reproachfully but with a hint of humour._   
_“I’m sorry, it’s just your eyes are…”_   
_“Filled with ancient light?”_

_Oliver thought for a moment about what the man was saying and then he smiled._

_“Yes, that is exactly right,” the man said._   
_“Who are you?” Oliver asked._

_Before the man could answer, Oliver heard a voice coming from behind him. It was light, feminine and full of so much life and laughter that he felt he had to turned and see who it was that was coming up the path to where they was sitting. He watched a raven haired young woman with creamy white skin and a brilliant smile that lit up her black eyes walk towards them._

_“I said,” she said as she got closer, “Don’t let his good nature fool you, my brother can be a right pain in the arse.”_   
_“My dear Sister,” the man said, “I was just about to introduce myself.”_   
_“Oh, well,” she said with exaggerated deference, “Please, continue.”_

_Oliver suppressed a smile as the two strangers exchanged looks that only a brother and sister who were fond of each other could exchange. He and Thea had exchanged those kinds of looks in the past and they were always given out of love._

_“Oliver,” began the man, “My name is Morpheus.”_   
_“Hello, Morpheus,” Oliver said as he extended his hand, “Pleasure to meet you.”_   
_“Wait!” she exclaimed, “OLIVER?”_   
_“Yes,” he said, trying not to laugh, “I am Oliver.”_   
_“OLIVER QUEEN!?!”_

_Oliver and Morpheus exchanged a look of amusement. She was excited for some reason and she quickly sat down beside him. He was sure he had seen her somewhere before. There was something about the sound of her laugh and the way she dressed, with the worn black jeans, silver Ankh and black leather jacket. He was sure he had met her in the past._

_“Do we know one another?” he asked._   
_“Oh yes, yes we do!” she laughed._   
_“How?”_

_She suddenly turned serious and spent a few minutes watching the river move slowly past. Oliver sat back and waited. He was dreaming and in no rush to wake up. Morpheus had relaxed back into the park bench and was watching something on the far shore. Oliver was unable to see what it was due to how far away the opposite river bank was and turned his attention back to the young woman._

_She was watching the sky with narrowed eyes._

_“Why is the sky not right, Morpheus?” she asked._   
_“Sister, it is the colour that Oliver has decided it should be.”_   
_“It isn’t dark or light. There are no stars, no sun, no moon, no birds. It is empty,” she said as she turned to look at Oliver, “Why do you want an empty sky?”_   
_“It isn’t empty,” Oliver said in confusion, “The stars are just coming out. It is twilight.”_   
_“Twilight...so your favourite sky is the one that is neither here nor there? Neither light nor dark?” she asked in curiosity._   
_“Sister, it would appear that Oliver likes the spaces between things, you should know that by now,” Morpheus admonished._   
_“True, but sometimes I wish he would pick one or the other,” she grumbled as she stared out across the water, “I mean, there are no birds here! Every dream needs birds.”_   
_“I am sitting right here,” Oliver said, “You could talk TO me instead of around me.”_

_The young woman turned to look at him and, with narrowed eyes and a small smile, asked him, “Ok, Oliver, why do you spend so much time avoiding the day?”_  
“I don’t,” he protested, “I actually work during the day as the Mayor of this city.”  
_“We know,” said Morpheus._  
 _“But you still live in the shadows,” the young woman said with a look of genuine puzzlement, “I mean, you have so much in your life! It is so full!”_

_Oliver leaned forward and place his elbows on his knees. He did it as a way to appear thoughtful when really he was just trying to get out of their eye line. The young woman was disarming in an effortlessly charming way and Morpheus was strangely intense in a way that made him decidedly uncomfortable._

_“I fear we have made the mortal uncomfortable, dear Sister,” Morpheus chuckled softly._   
_“Oliver,” she said, “this is your dream, we can go.”_   
_“No, it’s ok,” Oliver said quickly, despite being uncomfortable he was actually quite taken with the siblings plus Morpheus had just said something that piqued his interest. He had referred to him as ‘the mortal’._   
_“Are you sure? You seem a bit...strained,” she said with concern._   
_“Nope, I am glad you are both here. I’m betting Felicity will love hearing about this dream,” he smiled._   
_“Oh! Felicity! I LOVE HER!” the young woman clapped with joy._   
_“Wait...you know Felicity?” Oliver asked._   
_“I met her recently and she is delightful!” she said happily._   
_“In...in a dream?”_   
_“Yup. Morpheus didn’t meet her though.”_   
_“She was not someone for me to meet,” he said._   
_“Well, your loss, dear Brother. She is a lovely, lovely soul.”_   
_“She is the best person I know. Maybe will ever know,” Oliver said softly._

_“Well,” the young woman said gently, “I should get moving. Morpheus, will I see you in the next realm?”_  
 _“Perhaps but we both have a lot of work between now and then,” he said quietly._  
_“Wait,” Oliver said, “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”_  
 _“I think,” the young woman said as she laid a surprisingly cold hand on the side of his face, “you don’t need to know that just yet.”_  
 _“But I have seen you before,” he insisted._  
 _“Yes,” she smiled brightly, “You most certainly have. Most recently as you faced a powerful man who was more mad than sane. But I will NOT be seeing you again anytime soon.”_

_And with that she nodded to her brother and walked back the way she had come._

_“The only thing I saw was death,” Oliver mused quietly._   
_“Yes, you did.”_   
_“Wait...you're not telling...that’s not...is she…?” Oliver stuttered._   
_“It would appear you do know my sister.”_   
_“What does she want with Felicity?” Oliver asked, his voice tight and controlled._   
_“Nothing untoward. However, for a moment in time, Felicity acted in her name.”_   
_“Havenrock.”_   
_“Yes, Havenrock. That kind of responsibility is too large for anyone human to hold, let alone bear.”_   
_“Felicity is suffering again, isn’t she?” Oliver sadly asked._   
_“Yes, but this time she needs help that isn’t yours.”_   
_“Are you the messenger?”_   
_“No, I am here for you alone.”_   
_“For me? Are you competing with the Sandman?” Oliver chuckled._   
_“No, I tend to not compete with myself.”_

_Oliver turned to look at Morpheus in surprise and then a dawning realization of what Morpheus had just admitted to. He was sitting, side by side, with the Sandman. Oliver had seen many unusual things in his lifetime, he had experienced many amazing things both awake and asleep, but to be sitting side by side with the being responsible for the dreams and nightmares of all of humanity throughout time, well, that was something else entirely._

_“I am known as Dream of the Endless, which I prefer to Sandman.”_   
_“Why are you here? In my dream?” Oliver asked._   
_“To help you unlock the rooms in your mind that you occasionally lose yourself to.”_   
_“You are talking about the nightmares I don’t talk about.”_   
_“Yes, Oliver. I have seen countless minds turned inside out by the pain of violence lived and experienced. You have forgotten a few rooms and the keys are lost somewhere deep in your mind,” Morpheus said in a serious voice._

_Oliver sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the river and the turbulent mouth where the salt water of the bay flowed into the calm waters that flowed from the east. He knew he had locked down several moments from his years away, moments he couldn’t turn his mind to, not yet, but here he was sitting with Dream being asked to peel back those layers and dive in._

_“I don’t know that I’ll ever want to find my way into those rooms,” he admitted._   
_“You need to. I can see the images and how they are slowly finding the cracks in your mind.”_   
_“Will they affect Felicity?”_   
_“I don’t know. I am still unclear on how violent their release will be,” Morpheus said sadly._   
_“I need time to think about this,” Oliver said quietly, “I’ve hurt her in my sleep in the past.”_   
_“I know.”_   
_“I can’t do that again. Not ever.”_   
_“Then I suspect we will be walking together in the future,” Morpheus said as he got up. Dusting off his velvet coat, which glimmered faintly in the soft blue light, he looked down at Oliver and waited._   
_“I don’t have a choice but to agree, do I?” Oliver said with a faint smile._   
_“No, I am afraid not,” Morpheus said with slight smile, “Until then, I shall leave you to your thoughts. I, like my sister, have work to attend to.”_

_Oliver watched him walk down the pathway to the river. He walked under the slightly dipping branches of large oak tree and vanish into the shadows. It appeared to be a trick of the eye but it did look as though the shadows had reached for Morpheus and wrapped themselves around him as though in an embrace._

_“Never a dull moment when I sleep,” Olive mused aloud._

_As he stood up to make his way to the memorial in the centre of the park, he felt something brush past his forehead. It felt like a kiss and that was his cue to wake up. With a broad smile, he turned towards the lightest part of the sky and flew towards it._

 

II

Oliver felt her breath, soft and warm, on his chest. Even without opening his eyes, he knew she was awake but slowly going back to sleep. He could smell her perfume even now, long since the sun had set or was even attempting to rise. The quiet hours of the night, when time passed differently in soothing silence and the universe dipped one star at a time beneath the horizon, all he could remember was the feel of the curve of her hip under his hand and how her scent clung to his skin, her taste on his lips.

He could hear her steady breath and feel the rise and fall of her chest against his own. Gently, he pulled her tighter to him so he could feel the way her body molded to his. Tired though he still was, he opened his eyes and watched the colours of the room wash away until she was the only colour in it.

He had feared joining his world to hers at first. Keeping her safe was one of the most important tasks in his life but there were now days when he couldn’t tell where he began and she ended. On nights like this, when there was no moon to guide his way, with the only light visible being the swirling swaths of stars and galaxies that faintly shimmered in the ancient sky high above Star City to illuminate his solo journey.

He would follow her to the ends of the earth just to hear her voice. Smiling at her, he felt a rush of heat push through his body and all his doubts fell away. He only wanted her in this moment and slowly set about claiming her body with his mouth and hands.

Oliver felt her soft, gentle touch as she traced the ridges of the muscles in his back and heard her quietly sigh as he kissed her. She always knew just where to touch him to wake him up, to pull him closer to her without so much as saying a word.

Moving slowly down her body, taking his time to feel, taste and smell her skin, he remembered the first time he had taken this journey. How her muscles had tensed and her breathing had changed, growing deeper and faster, until he found his destination. He was just as nervous as she was, not that he would ever admit to that, but the moment his tongue traced a soft circle around her clit, she surrendered to him and him to her.

Time and time again, he would make this same journey but he never rushed it, never made it a race when he was the one in command of the rhythm of their bodies. He had tried to explain it to her once, how humbled he felt when he could prompt her orgasm with only his mouth but words had failed him.

This was how the communicated when words wouldn’t come. She would seek him out or he would pull her close as though trying to shield her from the world around them and their desire and love for each other would push past the walls they continued to erect between them. They needed to find the openings so that they could speak to one another again but not yet.

_Not yet, he thought as he kissed the delicate skin on the inside of her thighs._   
_Not yet, he thought as he covered her with his mouth._   
_Not yet, he thought as he felt her fingers tighten in his hair, but when?_

Oliver felt a heavy weight in his heart. A persistent, pushing down in his chest that stayed in place the longer they went without truly speaking to one another. It didn’t matter that he loved her with every part of him, there was something missing between them and he found himself missing Felicity even as he moved deep inside her.

Distantly, he heard her voice calling to him, telling him how much she loved him and felt her body slowly come undone beneath his. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his own body from responding. It was like a wave washing over him. He tumbled headlong, over and over, falling to her rhythms and allowing her to pull him the rest of the way. In the final moment, he stilled his hips and waited until he could feel her pulse around him before he allowed himself to reach his own orgasm.

In the quiet that followed, he felt the weight of unspoken sadness pushing on him again and allowed the sorrow to flow out of him. In the cold morning air, they clung to each other, taking comfort in the heat of each other’s bodies and the unspoken desire to begin healing the rifts between them. Oliver carefully eased his weight off of her slight frame and laid beside her. He looked her in the eyes and watched the universe unfold from deep within her and could only hope that they would firmly and finally reconnect before it was too late.

She needed time. Time to find her footing, to figure out her story of where she was on her own. He had made the silent pledge that he would hold the space for her until such time that she was ready. He tended their garden, he cooked for them and he loved her with singular purpose even though he knew she had a wound so large in her heart that a sequoia could push through it. One day he hoped to take out his mother’s ring and place it on her finger for good once and for all. Until then, these moments would have to sustain him.

Smiling, he watched Felicity get out of bed and make her way to the bathroom. Her skin glowed and shimmered like it was covered in a fine layer of gold dust. She continued to take his breath away and cause his heart to beat just slightly out of time. Hearing the water running in the shower, he decided to join her.

He had an extremely early morning meeting with the new Chief of Police but they had time to shower together. So he walked into the bathroom, expecting to see her under the waterfall showerhead. Instead, he saw that she was waiting for him. She smiled and Oliver saw a glimpse of the woman he met four years prior. The woman who would reach past his defences and pull him, reeling and exhausted, into the light.

The shower was a long one and all he could remember was the strength of her hands as she stroked and coaxed his cock hard. All he wanted was to feel her wrapped around him, the silky wetness of her flowing around him as she came. He used his strength and picked her up, pinning her against the smooth tiles of the shower wall and effortlessly glided into her body. His legs trembled as he came but when he opened his eyes he watched with delight as she leaned into the falling water and let it stream over her head.

He felt renewed in her presence and while it might be nice to remain in her arms all day, duty called. Oliver had to switch his attention to being Mayor and begin the day with the safety of Star City and its citizens at the forefront of his mind. He could grab coffee on the way into the office and set about trying to get the Star City Police Department the support they needed.

But first, he had a promise to fulfill and there was only one way he could do that and that was by making waffles with bananas, strawberries and maple syrup.

With his breakfast plate delicately balanced on his knee, Oliver sat looking out over the city as it slowly began to awaken and greet the day. He was struck by the emptiness of the sky. The stars had winked out and the sun was just a hint of energy and light on the horizon. But the sky was empty. Not even a flock of birds crossed in front of his window. He didn’t know why that was important but something told him to keep an eye on the skies for the next little while.

Felicity ate her waffles with gusto. He knew it was just what to make to satisfy her hunger after the intensity of their love making that morning. He was creating another oasis here in the penthouse suite, like the one he had created in the courtyard. It wasn’t truly real, it was a safe space for her to share her heart with him.

With a small sigh, he put his coffee mug in the sink next to the array of pots and dishes he had used to make breakfast, and called out to Felicity. It was time that they began their day. If all worked out according to plan, he would be out of the office and back in the lair by dinner so that he could grab a short nap and be ready to go for the night.

But even the best laid plans could be derailed and that is exactly what happened. An industrial fire at a warehouse by the docks turned the sky black and the smell of burning plastic covered the low lying areas of the city. The poorest areas where always the hardest hit.

He felt compelled to be present throughout it all. From the moment he was made aware, he was there. Watching and getting real time reports from the trauma centre that had been set up at a safe distance from the fire. Something wasn’t right about this fire. He couldn’t put his finger on it at first but he knew enough to trust his gut and it was telling him something was wrong.

Taking a break, Oliver headed over to the memorial park to catch his breath and clear his mind. The river and the trees had a way of pulling him back to himself and after watching the fire devour a warehouse that once provided employment to over three hundred men and women, he needed to be calm and centred.

As soon as the sun disappeared from view, he was determined to find out who struck the match and if they survived to meet their fate in court so be it. He wasn’t all too concerned with their mortality considering the danger they placed hundreds of people and firefighters in. But before he joined the night, he needed to focus and clear his head.

“I thought I might find you here,” came a soft and familiar voice from behind him.  
“How do you always know where to find me?” he asked as he turned to see Felicity walking down the path to where he was sitting, “Come and sit with me a while.”  
“Don’t mind if I do,” she smiled as she sat next to him.  
“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?” he joked as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. The night was cool and the breeze that was blowing in so gently over the water carried the scent of the fire and the promise of cooler temperatures to come.

“I spent a little time looking over the information pulled from the fire,” she said as she reached for his opposite hand, “I think I may have figured out the chemical used to start the fire.”  
“I’m not going to like it, am I?”  
“Nope, and we definitely are going to have to sit the team out tonight. Maybe keep them at the HIVE gym to train.”  
“What is it, Felicity?” he said in heightened concern. Something was wrong and her voice betrayed her.  
“The chemical is an experimental one...from a company in Opal City.”  
“Kord Industries.”  
“Yes. It was designed to be part of a nuclear payload package. Burn hotter and faster to limit nuclear fall out but also to incinerate anything within a 2 mile radius. The warehouse is gone, Oliver, it is ash. But Kord keeps the chemical in a warehouse a mile outside of the city.”  
“Looks like I am doing reconnaissance solo tonight,” he said grimly.  
“Oliver…,” she said in an admonishing tone.  
“But Overwatch will have my back,” he said softly as he raised their joined hands to his lips and gently kissed her scarred fingers.  
“You won’t take too many risks tonight right?”  
“I’ll try to remain vigilant and careful.”  
“I’m holding you to that,” she mumbled under her breath.

Oliver laughed and hugged her to him. She was serious and sad all at the same time. Her compassion and all encompassing and abiding belief in their combined potential to transcend suffering, or at the very least their ability to muscle through the bad times together. When they were in sync it was like they shared the same breath and heart. Right now there was a tension and friction between them that right now was calm but he could still feel it like sandpaper against his skin.

“I’ll message the kids and let them know to take the night off,” she said absently as she watched the water.  
“Wild Dog needs some tempering,” Oliver said somewhat darkly.  
“He just needs time to adjust to being part of a team,” she said gently, “He reminds me of you back in the early days.”  
“I was nowhere near that...obstinate.”  
“You have got to be joking,” she laughed, “He is a puppy compared to what you were like.”  
“What? I was...well, I mean...I listened eventually,” he stammered.  
“Eventually,” she laughed, taking obvious delight in his discomfort.  
“I suspect you and Dig would have eventually used actual bricks to knock some sense into me.”  
“Don’t think he and I didn’t talk about it.”  
“He told me,” Oliver laughed.

Falling into an easy silence, they watched the water’s colour change from an inky black to a boiling orange as the sun set slowly in the west. Oliver felt no real desire to get up and break the connection between them. He could feel the night attaching itself to him, like a shadow tugging at his skin, and he dug in, resisting it’s call.

“Oliver,” she said hesitantly, “I can’t go into the bunker.”  
“So what do you want to do? Work from the loft?”  
“No,” she answered quickly, “I can work from my office upstairs.”  
“Ok,” he said softly, “I guess we should get moving.”  
“Thank you even though you hate it when I thank you.”  
“Anything for you, Felicity,” he chuckled.  
“Time to go?”  
“Yup.”

Rising as one, they linked hands and walked back into the city, leaving the the peace and tranquility of the park behind them.

 

 

III

 

To say that the night didn’t go according to plan would have been an understatement. Oliver had intended to just run recon to see what he could find out at the Kord Industries warehouse located a mile outside of Star City. It was a simple in and out that Felicity had mapped out for him. She would guide him in, unlock doors and then he was to plug in a flash drive at the nearest computer and she would do the rest.

It should have taken ten minutes tops but neither one of them anticipated that the warehouse they had selected would be the target of a highly professional, coordinated breakin. There was no doubt in Oliver’s mind that these were the men responsible for the near fatal fire earlier that day and that someone on the security team’s payroll was in league with them.

He waited, high up in the rafters, and watched as they loaded up more of the chemical used in the fire. As suspected, the security guard on duty had let them in and was covering up the theft. Oliver watched as one man from the gang handed over a large envelope, most likely filled with cash, and then they left.

“Overwatch,” he said in a quietly, “are you able to track the semi leaving now?”  
“Yes,” came her voice through his earpiece, “I hacked an SCPD drone and have tethered them together.”  
“As Mayor, I am horrified at the SCPD’s poor security,” he grumbled, “As Green Arrow…”  
“As Green Arrow, you know security levels mean nothing to me,” she chuckled.  
“I’m going after the security guard,” he growled.  
“Ok, I’ll keep an eye on semi. Just...leave something for the police to arrest.”  
“I can’t promise what that something will be, but it will be something.”

And with that, the Green Arrow dove down and quickly made his way to the warehouse floor. Silently, he stalked the security guard to his station and watched as he placed the thick envelope in his jacket pocket. Clenching his fists, he stepped into the light and walked up behind the man before he turned around and spotted him.

“WHO WERE THEY?” the Green Arrow shouted.

The man jumped a foot in the air and whirled around to face him, his hand going instinctively to the weapons on his belt. When he saw the arrow leveled at his heart, he froze. Oliver recognized the look in the man’s eyes as something deeper than fear. The man was terrified into a stillness that made him compliant but dangerous.

He’d seen men reach this level of fear before. It was almost transcendental. Nothing could touch you in that place but every movement meant death. He had felt that fear once during his first few days alone on Lian Yu. He was too terrified to move but survival meant that he had to, his limbic brain took over while his evolved brain remained motionless and frozen in terror.

“WHO ARE THEY?” he shouted again, trying to snap the man back to reality.  
“Th...th...they are new players in town...they work with Church.”  
“What are they using the chemical for?”  
“I don’t know. I th-th-think they are building a bomb.”  
“Take the money out of your jacket pocket,” the Green Arrow commanded.  
“Look-”  
“TAKE IT OUT OF YOUR JACKET!”  
“Ok, ok...here,” the terrified man said as he took the money out and dropped it on the ground between him and the Green Arrow.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Max. Max Greenwold.”

Oliver paused as he waited for Felicity to work her magic and find out all she could on Max. He could use him to his advantage if he was as desperate as he appeared. Max was visibly shaking and Oliver had to suppress a grim smile. This was almost too easy.

“Green Arrow?” came her voice, “Max is a gambler. A major gambler. He owes the bank $50K but who knows what he owes the loan sharks.”

“Max,” he began just as the ground began to shake, “Overwatch! The ground is shaking!”  
“Oliver...RUN!” were the last words he heard before he heard the ground shriek as it came apart somewhere deep in the warehouse.  
“Max! RUN!” he yelled just as the the building began to come apart. Large boxes began to tumble and fall to the ground. A large metallic clang sounded as a drum of something bounced on the hard, concrete floor of the warehouse.

“Oliver, you need to move faster. That warehouse is full of things even I can barely pronounce. A few of them will dissolve you,” Felicity said in her calmest of panic voices.

Without looking back, Oliver kicked it into high gear. He had to trust that the security guard was running away because to pause or run back could mean they both die. In the past, he might have waited but not now. Not now that he had made friends with Death and had crossed into her realm on more than one occasion.

“How far away do I need to be?” he yelled as he ran.  
“Head towards the river. As fast as you can. Try to make it in under four minutes.”  
“WHAT?”  
“Just do it, OIiver!”

Not wasting another breath on asking pointless questions. He ran as fast as he could down towards the river.

“When you get there, don’t dive in. Head left up the river path until you get to that old railway bridge. The one you had decommissioned last month. Cross it and head back here.”  
“I left the Ducati behind the warehouse,” he lamented.  
“I’ll buy you a new one and maybe one for me.”  
“Get a sidecar.”  
“Stop talking, Oliver. Just...run.”

And so he ran. He leaped over low fences, scaled a chain link fence and headed towards the river as fast as he could. His conditioning was the best it had ever been, so he was able to make it the full mile from the warehouse to the water’s edge in less than four minutes.

Kicking it into yet another gear, he ran down the gravel pathway until he got to the old iron bridge. In the distance, he heard and saw the explosion at the warehouse. The shock wave and heat blast pummeled him even at the distance of over a mile and a half. Whatever Kord Industries had stockpiled was gone. Incinerated in a hellstorm of toxic chemicals and explosives.

“Overwatch?”  
“Here. Go ahead, Green Arrow,” she said with obvious relief in her voice.  
“What the hell happened?”  
“I’m still investigating.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes and looked back into the city, towards the bunker and Felicity. Scaling the bridge, he ran down the trestle and across the river. The sounds of sirens, dozens of them, converged on the warehouse far behind him. He hoped that the security guard made it out alive but he had his doubts.

“Overwatch?”  
“Yes?”  
“Are you up or down?”  
“Up.”  
“Can you meet me downstairs?”  
“...yes.”

Her hesitancy broke his heart but he admired her strength and dedication. Whatever was triggering her anxiety needed addressing and soon, for her sake more than anything, and it made him run as fast as he could to reach her and safety.

It took him roughly five long minutes to make his way at top speed through back alleys and up and over the low rising buildings on the outer edges of the city. He was glad that he had Felicity buy the building that had eventually become his campaign office and facade of the lair. It was low, unassuming and in a part of the city that held no interest for the gentrification crew. He was able to enter the garage without a single pair of eyes finding him.

“Felicity!?!” he called out into the cavernous space.  
“Here!” she called back from the comm centre.  
“So?” he asked as he climbed up to meet her, pausing to catch his breath, “What the hell happened?”  
“From what I can gather, they left behind a bomb that acted like the earthquake device Merlyn created. It...attached itself to the floor and disintegrated it,” she explained.  
“So the shaking of the building was it beginning to collapse in on itself?”  
“Yes. But the explosion...Oliver, I think the casualties on this one will be big.”  
“How big?” he asked carefully. Her voice was...different.  
“At least a hundred, maybe more. It...it took out the lab but it was only at half occupancy.”  
“How goes the battle to put it out?”  
“Kord Industries was working on an experimental foam for just such an emergency. It is being put to good use. I think they have it out already.”  
“And the men in the semi...where did they wind up?” he asked as he undid his vest.  
“Jail,” she answered matter-of-factly, “I tracked them to a small garage. There were exactly three of them. So…”  
“Good call,” he smiled as he took off the heavy leather vest and jacket, “I am sweating like crazy. Let me get my gear off, have a shower and I’ll meet you upstairs.”  
“I ordered take out, oh, five minutes ago, so I’ll go wait for it. Dinner in the garden?” she asked as she powered down her work station and picked up her tablet.  
“Perfect,” he said as he stepped up behind her and gently swept her hair off her neck so he could plant a soft kiss next to her ear.  
“I’m regretting ordering dinner,” she murmured with a soft sigh as turned around to watch him continue to strip down to his black Under Armor shirt and briefs.  
“I’m glad the team isn’t here so I can get out of my gear out here where it is cool,” he mumbled.

Smiling, she got up and left him to shower and change. Amused, he watched her leave and was secretly glad. Another shower like the one they had that morning and they would most definitely miss the delivery person upstairs.

At the thought of food his stomach let out a loud rumble. Moving faster than he really had energy for, Oliver rehung his suit and set the biometrics unit to clean it overnight. Cisco had raised his game when he made the cases that held their suits. Never having to clean the suits by hand meant the night could end quicker.

As he stood beneath the hot spray of the shower, letting the hot water do its work in relaxing his muscles and washing the lactic acid out of his system, he let his thoughts wander to Felicity. The tension in her voice and body weren’t insurmountable but it was wearing her thin emotionally. As much as he needed her as Overwatch, he needed her as Felicity. The woman he loved and cherished. The woman who was currently just beyond his reach.

Turning off the shower and grabbing a towel, Oliver dried himself off and got dressed. The lair, when no one was in it and the computers were in sleep mode, was cool with a slight metallic smell carried on the forced air breeze. Grabbing his leather jacket, he headed up to Felicity’s office and hopefully the food she had ordered.

Stepping out into the warm confines of her private space, Oliver took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the low lighting. He could tell just by the way the light in the office reflected off of shiny surfaces that she was out in their garden.

Their garden, he smiled. It had somehow become ‘their garden’.

Silently, he crossed to the hidden doorway and stepped through it and seemingly into a new world. A world where candles and fairy lights joined forces to push the darkness out, where a small ceramic pot glowed with heat and energy. Smiling, he turned to see Felicity unpacking more cartons than he thought necessary and walked to where she was setting up their dinner.

“Hey,” he said quietly.  
“Hey,” she said softly as she turned to watch him walk up to her. Opening her arms, she welcomed him into an embrace.  
“Did you order the entire menu?”  
“Nope, just the protein parts...which was a lot of the menu,” she smiled up at him.

Leaning down, he gave her a quick kiss.

“Any update on the fire and possible casualties?” he asked as he accepted a plate heaped high with steak, eggs, some kind of kale salad and broccoli.  
“Fire is out and, I have no idea how this is possible, but not a single person was hurt in the lab.”  
“What?! That’s amazing!” he exclaimed.  
“I know. They were all on a secure floor about 10 stories deep, so the fire and warehouse collapse didn’t affect them one bit. Unfortunately...Oliver, please don’t be upset but…”  
“The security guard. Max. He didn’t make it out did he?” he asked quietly.  
“No,” she said softly, “I think he went back in for the money.”  
“Then his greed killed him,” Oliver said without a trace of self recrimination or regret. He suspected Max wanted the money in the envelope more than he valued his own safety, so he felt no guilt over not going back or waiting for him.  
“Yes,” she agreed, “Yes, it did.”

Falling silent, Oliver continued to eat his dinner. Felicity was subdued but not withdrawn and he took that as a good sign. Looking at her, as she ate her steak and salad, he was glad to see a bit more colour in her cheeks and a diminishing of the dark circles from under her eyes. The golden glow of the small fire and fairy lights created an aura of peacefulness around them that felt strangely out of step with the events of the night but one he was glad to inhabit with her if only for a little while.

“So,” she said carefully, “I was thinking maybe this might be a good weekend to maybe get away for a bit.”  
“Oh?” he asked as nonchalantly as he possibly could as he came back to sit with her after clearing away their dinner plates and take out boxes, “Dinner was wonderful by the way, thank you.”  
“Well, I suspected you would be hungry after that run,” she smiled up at him, “And yes, I was thinking of getting away for a couple of days. Would you mind?”  
“Absolutely not,” he said, “Can I know where you’re going?”  
“Yes...would you come with me?” she asked hesitantly.  
“Is that something you really want?”  
“I wouldn’t ask if not, Oliver.”  
“Then yes, I would l love to go wherever it is you are wanting to go to,” he said quietly.

For a few minutes they sat in silence, lulled by the gentle heat coming from the small ceramic fire pit. Oliver had been nervous that she was going to go and not tell him where she was going. He knew she wasn’t leaving him but he still felt those occasional pangs of fear that maybe, just maybe, she would.

“Oliver?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“Come home with me tonight.”  
“Why, Ms. Smoak! I do declare, I am but a lowly servant boy!” he said in his worst Southern accent.  
“Oh my God!” she groaned, “You and that accent! Why do you even try?”  
“Because of how much it obviously pains you,” he laughed.  
“Let’s go before I change my mind,” she chuckled.  
“Walk or cab?”  
“Walk, I am so full I need to move around for a bit,” she said as she stood up and stretched.

Oliver looked at her for just a moment and then stood up behind her, running his hands up the length of her body as he did so. Cupping her breasts for just a second before traveling back down. Instinctively, she pressed back into him and placed her hands over his own. Wrapping her in a tight embrace, he stood still and just held her.

Slowly, she turned around in his embrace and pulled his head down towards hers. At first the kiss was tentative, almost chaste, but slowly deepened into one full of love, passion and primal lust masquerading as desire. He felt her hands tighten, pulling on his shirt, and knew they should make their escape sooner rather than later.

“Oliver?” she asked, her voice dusky and low.  
“Hmmm?”  
“Let’s go.”

Pouring water on the fire before turning off the lights, Oliver waited for her to gather up her tablet and bag. Taking her by the hand, they began their walk back to the loft they once shared to end the night much like how the day had begun. He feels the heat of of her skin and the pull of slippery urgency, of completeness, of a journey traveled in unison.

He marveled at the trust she placed in him as they walk side by side to her home. When everything was broken, lying in pieces at his feet and all around him was rubble, she had gathered up his shattered pieces and kept his heart safe while she loved him back into creation with every sigh and softly murmured word. He only hoped he could repay her in kind.


	5. Day Two: A Breather Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is loooooooooooooooong one. I camped out in Felicity's head and did some exploring. It is like finding a loose thread and seeing how quickly it unravels.
> 
> There is an ache deep inside Felicity that has nothing to do with Oliver or Havenrock, but it expresses itself through the grief she has associated with both. She is both holding it together and falling apart and this chapter helps set the stage for what's to come.
> 
> Death comes for a visit, too, and proves invaluable to Felicity's journey within her dream which is both surreal and grounded in reality.
> 
> The Hamilton soundtrack came on this long journey with me, specifically Right Hand Man (no idea why) and Wait For it.
> 
> Enjoy :)

**Day Two - A Breather Part Two**

_Shifting horizon or swirling sand_   
_Nothingness underfoot_   
_She walks._

I

 

Felicity watched as Oliver made his way towards City Hall. She had opted to not go accompany him but instead head back to the loft to work. He had a full calendar of meetings and briefings and she had an empty one now that Palmer Tech was no longer employing her. She did have a few things to do regarding her stocks in the company and what she wanted to do with her controlling shares and related income.

The closer she got to her loft, the deeper her sense of dread and panic grew. She felt herself beginning to hyperventilate and quickly found a bench to sit down on in order to calm herself down, regain her composure and find her footing so that she could make her way home. The edges of her vision darkened briefly and she felt a cold sweat break out on her prickly skin.

“Are you ok?” came a man’s voice.  
“Yes, thank you,” she said quickly, “Just want to sit and enjoy the morning.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes, I am fine. Thank you for asking.”  
“Ok, just wanted to be sure. You look a little pale,” the man said, concern colouring his voice.

Felicity smiled up at him and blinked to refocus her vision. He looked like someone’s grandfather. He had a lovely twinkle in his eyes and though his face was lined with wrinkles, he had an air of youth to him. His gentle smile was infectious and helped calm her nerves even further. What really caught her attention was the fedora he was wearing. It was black with a bright red and green plaid hat band. It caught her eye and instantly brightened her mood.

“I appreciate it, really, I am ok,” she smiled.

The man patted her on the arm, tipped his hat, and left her on the bench. She was grateful for his kindness and for the privacy he gave her by leaving. She felt close to tears and knew if he had stayed for just a moment longer, she would have lost her composure. Now she could sit and listen to the sound of the wind as it blew through the leaves of the trees behind her.

The sound brought her back to herself. It was like water rushing over stones or pebbles in a swirling current. She took a deep breath and listened. She listened to the sound of traffic, the building murmur of the populace as they ventured out into the morning, heading to work or school or just out for a morning coffee.

It calmed her enough that she was able to enjoy the scenes as they unfolded around her. She watched a young mom pushing a stroller and talking on her phone. She laughed and blushed and Felicity was sure that she was talking to her husband.

She watched another young woman try to balance her coffee on top of her text books while she dug in her purse for the keys to her car. She almost lost the coffee but recovered in time to save it and her text books with a small juggling move. Felicity was impressed and suppressed a laugh. The young woman caught her eye and they exchanged smiles before she slipped into her car and disappeared into traffic.

Mornings in Star City were lively, energetic affairs. The sounds of children playing in distant school playgrounds mixed with the sounds of revving engines and honking horns into the song that began the day. Feeling like she could make it home, Felicity got to her feet and continued on.

The soft breeze, carrying on it the sweet scent of cedar and late blooming roses, felt good on her skin. It cooled her down and her skin lost its prickly, hot feverish feeling, making her feel as close to herself as she had felt in a very long time. Felicity lost herself to the memory of what life was like a year ago. When the promise of something more with Oliver was a glimmer on the horizon and hope was the prevailing feeling each and every day.

She sometimes missed those days. When seeing him in the old lair caused her heart to beat a little faster or just the glimpse of his smile made the sun shine a little bit brighter and the darkness a little less scary. But, even considering all they had survived and gone through together and alone, she wouldn’t return to them. They were lovely memories but idyllic and not grounded in their current reality.

Right now they were rediscovering who they were to each other and to themselves. She wanted Oliver to be sure he really knew who he was under the hood, the mask, and the suit. That journey to wholeness, whatever that might look like, was entirely his own but she was happy to walk alongside him in the meantime.

Reaching her front door, Felicity paused and looked up towards her home. It was at the very top of the building, seemingly safe and secure, floating high above the city but it had been the site of so many attacks she had lost count. Ra’s, Malcolm, and Darhk had all shattered the calm of the space and yet she and Oliver had maintained their deep desire to make it their home.

Maybe, she mused as she made her way to the elevator, maybe it is time to get a new one. A new home removed from the violence of the city, from the memories attached to this place. It wasn’t a matter of money, it was a matter of desire to change.

Looking around the loft, Felicity felt a disconnect from the space itself. It was no longer home, it was simply a space enclosed by walls that held no real meaning anymore. It was a space that was orientated towards the necessary duality of two. Whenever she walked into the loft, she instinctively looked around to see where Oliver was, half expecting to see him on the couch watching baseball or an old movie.

Crossing to the staircase, she slipped off her shoes and jacket and made her way up to change. She felt a hollowness in her chest, one that threatened to pull her apart, as she felt his absence from the home they once shared. There was no trace of him, not even a sock left behind. He was so careful to remove himself so as to not upset the balance of their reconnection. She knew he didn’t want to push anything too fast, not like last time, and she was grateful.

Looking at her bed, she felt an instant pull towards it. While she had slept well at the hotel with Oliver, she was still reeling from almost four months of no sleep and a mid-morning nap was something of a luxury that she gladly took part in from time to time.

Stripping out of her clothes, Felicity changed into sweats and tank top and was heading back to her bed when her phone buzzed. She debated ignoring it but it might be her lawyer with information on her desire to divest of a small portion of her Palmer shares. Sighing heavily, she picked up her phone and saw it was a message from Thea.

They needed her back at City Hall for a cyber security meeting just after lunch. With another heavy sigh, Felicity texted her back to say she would be there. A day off from her day job is what she needed to make it through the night but she needed to prepare for this particular meeting and a short nap would help her focus.

Instinctively, she curled up on Oliver’s side of the bed. His pillow still held a hint of his scent, earthy with a hint of cedar and clove, so she breathed deep and let her eyes close. Unbidden, the memory of his hand gently tracing the curve of her hip came to life on her skin. She remembered watching him do this the night before and how she thought he glimmered and glowed, as though lit from within. He was the sun that rose to fend off the dark night sky, he was the song that she listened for by the water’s edge. His embrace was always strong, warm and one she looked forward to easing into at the end of every night. He was the only man in her life whose love had been strong enough to pull her home.

And she would be forever grateful for his strength, his stubbornness, his kindness, love and compassion. He understood where she was as she struggled to understand who she was and never needed an explanation. But she knew he was owed one for the way she kept him at arm’s length when things got crowded in her head.

_Not yet, she mused as she opened her eyes to stare out the window._   
_Not yet, she thought as she faintly heard the wails of a once standing town reduced to ash._   
_Not yet, she thought as she remembered the kindness in his eyes, but when?_

The nap she thought she wanted slipped past her, leaving her awake and thinking. Felicity knew it was pointless to remain in bed trying to sleep, she would only toss and turn and become irritated by her inability to rest. With another deep sigh, she sat up and got out of bed, stripping as she walked to the bathroom, she decided on a shower to wake her up.

The water felt good and she took her time washing her hair and tending to her body. She closed her eyes and reached behind her, feeling the scars of wounds that still haunted her and traced the path of destruction as far as she could. Death had been so close that night but she fought her way back, screaming and kicking, because she had so much life left to live.

Just as she turned the shower off, she heard a loud BOOM. The windows in her bedroom rattled softly and she saw the bright white flash of something exploding in the distance. Felicity froze. Her vision restricted to pin points in front of her. All she could see was the towel in her hand, everything else was dark, and her chest constricted in panic. She felt herself fighting for breath and the room slowly turning upside down. The first time she had ever experienced vertigo was in the aftermath of Havenrock.

She had been alone in the bunker one night, Oliver was with Thea at her apartment, Diggle was with his family and she had no one to turn to that she could trust. A news report came on showing the devastation and for the first time she saw what her decisions has caused. It was devastating. It was like a physical blow and the wind was knocked out of her. Then the bunker spun around her and she wound up on the floor, forehead pressed to the cool concrete floor, trying not to vomit.

But this was not that moment or in anyway related to Havenrock. Something else was happening and Felicity knew she needed to gather her wits and focus on what had actually occurred. She could see a billowing cloud of black smoke in the distance by the docks and suspected she might be needed for something different then cyber security.

Between towel drying her hair and getting dressed, she exchanged texts with Thea on just what was going on. Thea suspected it was more than just a fire as all the reports coming in from the fire department were describing a fire so intense that the first trucks that arrived had to be towed further back after their tires melted.

Felicity set to work on her tablet and home computer, which Ray had built before he blew himself up, that contained a small bit of circuitry made up of the same alloy and tech that was used in the Atom suit. It allowed her to run an incredible amount of different processes, more than any other computer out there save one or two at ARGUS, that she was certain she could trace all the different threads of data and find something that could solve the mystery.

And if there was one thing Felicity was always up for it was solving a mystery.

Time slipped past her unnoticed. The sun moved across the sky, changing the shape of the shadows in the room from long to short and back again. The only thing Felicity saw were the screens in front of her and the lightning fast processes working to locate that one tiny shred of information that could help solve why this fire burned so fast and so hot and who was behind setting it.

Thea was giving her real time updates. Even though the fire under control, and the firefighters were winning the battle, something was off and Oliver was watching over everything from the command centre. There was on small bright spot: the warehouse had been closed the night before for a yearly inspection that had been slated to begin after 11 am. So no one had been in it when the fire started.

That was small comfort to the men and women who no longer had a job or income. She pushed the thought of families possibly going hungry out of her mind for the moment and pulled up photos of three barrels that she had spotted on the SCPD’s drone footage. They really needed a lesson on how to protect their systems from hackers but today was not that day.

When she finally managed to blow the pictures up large enough, she was able to read the letters on one part of a barrel that had not been melted or scorched by the fire. The name on the side was Kord Industries which, given their military connections, meant that whatever had been in those barrels was not a substance that was intended for positive use.

She spent the next hour tracking down the exact place of origin of the containers and where they would find the rest of them. Oliver would undoubtedly want to go after who had set the fire so she wanted to have as much information as possible. Glancing behind her, she saw the sun had slipped low in the sky and the light was taking on a golden hue.

Time to get a move on, she thought, time to find Oliver and get a plan of attack hammered out. He would want to go without the new recruits, which was a very good idea, and they needed to be on the same page with one another for things to work smoothly and safely.

Putting on her running shoes and grabbing both her bag and tablet, she headed out. She intended to head straight to the lair, as she was sure Oliver was already on his way, but he wasn’t answering his phone and when she checked in on the security cameras, all was dark save for the biometric cases which glowed a faint green in the dim light.

Pausing outside the elevator, she pinged his phone and traced the signal back to the Havenrock Memorial park. Felicity stood completely motionless for a moment and focused on breathing. She hadn’t been back to the park since that night she had said her prayer, laid pebbles on the monument and Oliver had told her about the secret box hidden deep within the sculpture.

Taking a deep breath, she got on the elevator and headed down to the front lobby. It was still light out and Felicity began to retrace an old path that had been a part of her physical therapy in the immediate aftermath of Havenrock. She wanted to walk it now, with her eyes wide open and her head held high, to see what she had been blind to in her grief.

What she saw was a city brimming with energy and life. Young couples, old couples, laughing friends and family all participating in the act of being. These were the people she, Oliver and Diggle had made it their mission to protect. Felicity felt a growing sense of pride, both in herself and her teammates, that despite the sacrifices they had had to make, they were still there, together, fighting to keep the city safe.

Felicity slowed her pace as she got closer to the park. She could hear the wind as it passed through the trees, rustling the oak leaves and whistling over the pine needles, and the scent of all that green followed it on its journey into the city. Yet her palms were clammy and she felt that familiar gnawing pit of fear in her stomach. How a place of such serenity and calm could cause such anxiety never ceased to surprise her.

Crossing slowly through the gates, she spotted Oliver sitting facing the river. His shoulders were slumped and from where she was standing, she knew he was lost in thought. Today had been difficult for him as Mayor, but that would give him the fire to do what he needed to as Green Arrow. They had a long night ahead of them but if he wanted to spend some time here, she was happy to join him as it meant less time to think about being in the lair.

Just the mere mention of it caused dark spots of panic to form in her vision. She couldn’t be in there alone. Not yet. It was sensory overload when she was in that cavernous space with no one there to distract her. She could manage from her office above and had decided to that she would work from there. The tighter space provided a false sense of security she knew, but she felt protected and less exposed in the small, warm office.

The smile Oliver greeted her with was enough to push the panic away. She forgot about the gleaming surfaces that flashed and glared with reflected light, the way sound bounced off of every surface until it triggered an avalanche in her mind of tumbling images full of fire and death. Every part of her wanted to pull him away, to escape for just a couple of days until her mind had settled but she knew he would never leave the city when the kind of threat that was out there continued to exist.

Sitting beside him, she reached for his hand and briefed him on the what she had discovered. Oliver fully understood the gravity of what she was telling him. There was a crew out there who had found a way to get their hands on an accelerant designed to aid in nuclear destruction. Her heart sped up at the simple thought of it and the urge to run away welled up inside her again.

Away.

All she she could think about was the perfection of the feeling and the word: away.

There was no running tonight, not when there was so much that needed doing. They both agreed to let the recruits sit this one out as it was only a recon mission that Oliver was more than able to handle with just her in his ear. She had a program running that was downloading every schematic she could find into one file so that she could plot out how he would get in, where he needed to go, and how he could leave without a single soul seeing him.

Just as the sun touched the horizon, and the breeze cooled the air around them, she sensed a shift in Oliver and knew it was time to get to work. When she admitted that she couldn’t be in the lair while he was out in the field, he was supportive and understanding. If she could do what she needed to up in the office, he was ok with it.

So while he changed and prepared his weapons and made sure his earpiece worked, she was upstairs plotting the path he would take once he entered the warehouse. When he was ready to go, she went over it with him. It was a simple, straightforward plan: he would enter Kord’s building through the warehouse and loading dock and make his way to the interior offices to locate the server room. Once inside there all he needed to do was connect the flash drive she had given him and it would automatically upload a ghost program that would allow her to hack into their system. He would be in and out in ten minutes tops and she would have all the information she needed.

But the night went sideways the minute Oliver entered the warehouse. A heist of the remaining barrels of the chemical used in the fire was underway and all Oliver could do was watch from up high in the rafters. While he waited, she fed the coordinates of the semi the robbers were using into the SCPD’s drone she was “borrowing” and tethered them together using the semi’s GPS. It was an easy hack and could provide them with the necessary information that they needed to stop this particular gang.

There were a tense few minutes as Oliver waited, perched a hundred feet above them, but once the van left he sprang into action and while he did his bit, she did hers. She tracked the semi and when the security guard gave up his name, she tracked down all his information in a matter of seconds. Max Greenwold was deeply in debt to both the bank and loan sharks from Star City to Gotham. The gang must have given him extreme incentive to betray his employer, and the city, the way he did.

It was as she finished telling Oliver the info that she noticed a sudden flare of heat on the warehouse security feed. Checking the inventory list of what was in the area, her heart began to beat so hard she was having trouble breathing. There were chemicals in the area that, if the barrels they were in exploded, would literally dissolve the flesh from Oliver’s bones. Max could wait, Oliver needed to get out and get out fast.

With her fingers flying over her keyboard, Felicity notified the fire department, set off the alarms in the lab next to the warehouse and then figured out the best route for Oliver to take to get him back to the bunker as fast as he could get here.

Over her earpiece, she listened to Oliver command Max to run as fast as he could and then she did the same to Oliver. Then all she could do was wait and watch from high above his location as he ran faster than she had ever seen him run. It was as he neared the old railway bridge that she realized she was panting in panic. She needed to take a deep breath but her entire body was locked in deep fear.

For five long minutes, she waited. She could hear Oliver’s breathing as he ran back to her and safety. That was all that mattered to her. Glancing at the video feed from the drone, she saw that semi had parked and the three men were just sitting around. The SCPD could handle this so she alerted them to the location and returned her attention to Oliver. To her great relief, she saw he was less than 400 yards from the bunker.

While she waited, she watched the footage of the semi drivers being taken into police custody. The decision was made on the ground to send the contents of the truck back to Kord Industries. There was no where else it could go. Based on what she could figure out from the security footage in the warehouse, the robbers had punched a hole in the side of one of the remaining barrels and the chemical had literally dissolved the floor of the warehouse. The main warehouse in Opal City had the correct facilities to both guard and store it, so back it went to be kept under armed guard deep within Kord’s military bunker.

Felicity explained as much to Oliver as he continued his journey back. The closer he got, the easier her breathing became and she was able to relax her body one inch at a time. It was as she watched him cross back into Star City that the shaking began. It was a byproduct of adrenaline and anxiety, her rational mind told her, but it felt deeper than that, more linked to the trauma of Havenrock.

She was making decisions again that had the potential to create lasting damage and harm to thousands of people. Or, in this case, to the workers of the lab adjacent to the warehouse. This helped snap her back to herself and a small place of calm so that she could focus on the information coming in. By some miracle, the lab was located 150 feet below ground level and all workers were safe and accounted for.

Breathing deep, Felicity let a slow breath out. Disaster had been diverted on that front, she just hoped Max had been able to make it out alive and that he hadn’t let his greed overtake his survival instinct by going back for what was most likely a huge amount of money in the envelop Oliver had demanded he drop.

A Kord Industry helicopter was flying low over the fire. They had not only developed the chemical that could turn a nuclear bomb into something even worse, they had also developed a foam to put it out. As she watched, the helicopter swooped low and released its payload. It helped beat the flames back enough for the firefighters to put out the rest. Even with their combined efforts, the warehouse was reduced to ash.

She needed to get to her comm centre but was reluctant to go until Oliver gently asked if she could. His belief in her, not that she could go down to meet him but in the way that he asked, gave her the necessary courage to do it. Besides, she thought grimly, when the new players in town were intent on starting chemical warfare, she needed to get to her comm centre to do some heavy lifting hacking wise.

The elevator ride down seemed to take longer than she remembered but she steadied her nerves and pushed the anxiety out of her mind and body. It was then that she realized she was starving. The last time she had eaten was earlier that morning and since then she had been drinking coffee in steadily increasing sizes and strength.

Quickly, she ordered steak, scrambled eggs, kale salad and every side of vegetable she could find from one of their favourite restaurants and asked that it be delivered in thirty minutes. By the time Oliver got in, changed and showered, the food would be on its way.

Being down in the bunker, alone, with all the computers silent and screens dark, she felt safe. Even as her footsteps softly echoed in the cavernous space, she did not feel that squeeze of panic around her lungs and her hands stayed dry. A ghost of a smile passed over her lips as she climbed the stairs to her work station. She had missed her computers more than she realized. Maybe she could manage to be here in the coming days so long as the rest of the team were here with her.

But right now, the air in the bunker pushed down on her and she could feel the scars on her back begin to sing and tingle. It was like they were alive and trying to come off her body. Her fingers were just beginning to twitch and clench when Oliver came into the lair.

He was dirty and sweaty but only slightly winded. He had just run over two miles at top speed, away from a chemically enhanced fire and explosions that held an unearthly power, and the only way she could tell was by the slight flush on his cheeks. Oliver was so well conditioned, so strong and so determined to save the city. It was beyond admirable and heroic. He was a tower of strength, dynamic and evolving.

But she never felt cowed by him or in any way less than his equal. Even at the beginning of their partnership, she never felt like he was more important or that she was in some way a lesser person based on status or gender. In her weaker moments, she felt unworthy of his trust but never of her place on the team. Under all the layers of debris left by a missing father, a mother whose job kept her out of their tiny, shared home for extended hours, of a life lived and fought for even when the future was dim and cloudy on the horizon, was a spirit so fierce nothing could dampen it.

As she watched him slowly shed his outer skin while they broke down the way the night had gone, she suddenly felt the need to be breathing fresh air, to be out from under the ceiling of concrete and steel. Not due to stress or anxiety but to just be part of the universe in some way that wasn’t related to violence and destruction. She also wanted him but not right now, not yet. She felt something like a fist pushing its way up to the surface of her mind and sensed it would happen that night.

But his company was more than welcomed, in fact it was needed. It was good that their dinner was going to be arriving soon because the moment he brushed her hair to the side and gently kissed her neck, she almost joined him in the shower. Picking up her tablet and bag, she ascended to her office above them and lit the fire pit in the garden.

The food arrived exactly on time and as she was setting it out, her phone buzzed. The message she read caused her knees to buckle just a tiny bit. The security guard, Max Greenwold, had died in the blaze. They found what was left of him in front of a locker on a lower level. His greed outweighed his survival instinct and he met his death because of it.

When she told Oliver, she was relieved at his reaction. He assumed no guilt for the man’s death as he warned him to run, to leave the money behind and go as fast as he could. Oliver had chosen to live, to survive, and he made sure he did by following the directions she gave him. There was a change to how he approached the field now that he was out there without Thea and John. The new team was coming along but until then, he was making sure he made it out alive and for that, she was eternally grateful.

She knew it was time to go when she got up to stretch and he came up behind her. His hands traveled the length of her body, pausing to cup her breasts before continuing on. Turning around to face him and allowed her gaze to settle on his blue eyes. So blue that they froze her breath in her chest. His beauty tore at her heart so deeply that, for a brief fleeting moment, she forgot her own name.

They smiled into a kiss that started out soft and chaste but grew deeper and desperate as they fell into it. Felicity felt his hands tighten and pull at her sweater. She could touch the soft skin on the back of his neck or above the leathery, fire scorched skin on his lower back and know they would not make it out of the garden for hours.

Instead, knowing he would say yes, she asked him to come home with her. Hand in hand, they walked back to the loft, leaving work behind them for the moment. Oliver was nervous about a meeting with a group of women hoping to secure funding for a battered women’s shelter. He had the money, he had made sure of it almost immediately when the request crossed his desk, but the shelter’s Executive Director was a formidable woman who had already stared him down.

Oliver felt she could see right through him, like his mother could when he returned from exile, and that none of his secrets were safe. Felicity had found it amusing that the Green Arrow was terrified of a five foot tall, sixty year old African American woman until she met her. The woman was a force of nature, dedicated to her cause and willing to go toe to toe with Oliver as Mayor and, no doubt, the Green Arrow if she needed to.

The funding was for building a brand new shelter as well as apartments for women and their families. The complex that was being planned was to have high security and its location was to remain a secret. It would be advertised as mixed use facility, providing office space as well as residential living all in an effort to prevent the abusers from knowing of its existence. Felicity was already developing a security system to protect them. She felt honoured by the request and was making sure it was iron clad.

“Oliver,” she said, “this is a wonderful, powerful thing to do with these women. You need to be proud, not nervous.”  
“Yeah, I know,” he said with a chuckle, “I think I’m just tired. That was one hell of a run. If I had my Ducati…”  
“We’ll get you a new one. A faster one. And one for me.”  
“A sidecar isn’t an actual motorcycle.”  
“Oliver!” she laughed, “We have those amazing leather motorcycle suits! I need to wear mine again.”  
“You can...we don’t have to be on a motorcycle for you to - OUCH!” he exclaimed as she lightly smacked his arm.  
“I know what you were going to say, Oliver.”  
“What? I can’t think you look amazing in black leather?”  
“It isn’t a sex suit!” she exclaimed.  
“Says you,” he mumbled.

Felicity laughed as he blushed. She knew how he felt about that suit and wondered if he had it made for just that reason. But with the Ducati gone, most likely melted to and reduced to slag somewhere behind the now obliterated warehouse, it would a while before they could ride together again.

As they made their way up to loft, Felicity was suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. It was after two am and they both had to be up by seven thirty or eight am the next moring at the very least. She didn’t even have to say anything, Oliver just knew that the night was coming to a close and lead her up the stairs to her bedroom.

Getting ready for bed only took a few minutes. Felicity slipped into a tshirt with a deep sigh and crawled into bed.

“How are your legs after that impromptu race?” she asked as Oliver joined her.  
“My right knee is a bit stiff.”  
“Running may have saved your life tonight but it is bad for your health,” she mumbled as she turned over. Oliver immediately fit his body to hers and pulled her closer to him.  
“What are you talking about?” he laughed, “You would love it if you tried it.”  
“Just like I like hiking?”  
“More.”  
“Oliver, I would be one giant muscle cramp.”  
“I’d massage you,” he said in a low, soft voice in her ear and then he nuzzled her neck knowing that his scruff would tickle her.  
“Oliver!” she laughed, trying to get away from him, “You need to shave!”  
“Nah,” he laughed, “Not when it makes you laugh like that.”

Felicity heard the small note of sadness that hummed through his laugh. She knew what he meant and pushed herself back a little closer to him. She felt his lips press a soft kiss to her shoulder and then his breathing deepened as his body relaxed into sleep. Oliver could sleep anywhere if he was tired enough and tonight he apparently was exhausted. She was still very much awake and wasn’t sure she would join him in sleep anytime soon...until she did.

 

II

_She felt a cool breeze blow past her that brought with it the scent of gardenias and jasmine. The air around her smelled floral and sweet and it reminded her of Bali. But she felt no heat on her skin, just the ever present cool breeze. Opening her eyes, she tried to focus on where she was and for the first time in a long time, she saw nothing. Just a uniform, hazy orange. She thought she saw a drifting sand dune but it dissolved into nothingness and left her feeling disorientated as to what was up and what was down until she spotted the distant horizon._

_Squinting at the indistinct line, she thought she saw a faint smudge of grey. It moved slowly towards her, shifting in and out of focus until the smudge became a figure. Felicity eventually recognized who was coming towards her across the drifts of nothingness. It was the young woman from the park. She was making her way easily past the shadows of dunes, bushes and trees with her hands in her leather jacket pockets and a slight skip to her step._

_“FELICITY!” she called, “HI! REMEMBER ME?”_

_Felicity had to laugh at the young woman’s enthusiasm. This was obviously a dream but she was still happy to see a familiar and happy face. Whoever this woman was, she was a lovely, gentle soul that radiated joy and life. Felicity couldn’t help but smile as she drew closer._

_“I know this is a dream,” Felicity said, “but I am very happy to see you.”_   
_“I was hoping I would find you again! But this place is...it is so empty.”_   
_“I know, I have no idea where this is supposed to be.”_   
_“Yes, you do,” the young woman said somewhat mournfully._

_Felicity looked at her carefully, taking in the white skin, dark eyes, heavy black eyeliner and crazy, punked out black hair. The young woman was looking around at the hints of scenery and kicking at the ground with her boot. Every kick produced a crack and in every crack was a colour or texture. Slowly a picture began to emerge as the nothingness splintered and fell away._

_Soon they were standing on the edge of a crater. Felicity felt her spirits sink and a squeezing sensation around her heart. Havenrock. She hadn’t been here in her dreams for almost two months. Long enough for it to grow indistinct and blurry, as though erasing itself from her memory._

_“Felicity,” the young woman said softly, “let’s walk for a bit.”_

_Linking their arms together, the young woman nudged Felicity towards a ghost of a path and together they set off around the perimetre of the crater. Step by step, the land revealed itself to them. One minute it looked like it was_ _covered in a layer of sand, the next they were stepping around small clumps of flowers and the debris of the dead._

_“Why did I bring us here?” Felicity asked in a small voice._   
_“I don’t know, that’s what we are about to find out,” the young woman said in a gentle voice, “For some reason you feel compelled to be here and I am your company for how ever long you need me for.”_   
_“But...I don’t even know your name.”_   
_“Sure you do!” the young woman exclaimed happily, “You just can’t remember it.”_   
_“So aren’t you going to remind me?”_   
_“When you remember it, that will be my cue to go,” she said sadly._   
_“Ok, I’m confused,” Felicity said, “Why would that be your cue to go? From...my dreams?”_   
_“Yup. It will mean we will meet a few more times before the last time. Now, let’s walk. I think I see a bench talking shape up by that almost tree.”_

_Felicity looked and watched as a bench slowly pieced itself together in the falling shade of a tree that was growing itself into creation. She looked past the bench and saw the outline of a park full of trees and flowers. It was mesmerizing to watch nature colour itself in and inanimate objects fill themselves out atom by atom. It was as though her dream were creating itself like it was a set from a play._

_She watched a street begin to form and then it pivoted mid-creation and became a seaside. She wanted to stop and watch the scenes to see if she recognized anything but her companion was intent on reaching her destination. The bench was fully realized and the tree was about to bloom. The only problem was what it overlooked._

_As they sat down, Felicity watched the crater seethe and boil at its centre. It was still so furiously alive and spewing poison into the air. She wanted it to stop, to heal itself and leave her mind but still, it remained. Flashing into life when she was alone in the echoing steel lair or when she was out on the street and a car screeched to a stop at a streetlight. She never knew when it would happen but when it did, it left another scar on her psyche._

_“One day, this crater will be healed,” Felicity said softly._   
_“Yes, it will but for right now we sit,” the young woman smiled._

_And so they sat. Felicity had wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together and stop the shaking that had began to rattle her bones. Her guilt was everywhere she looked. In the trees surrounding them, on the ever changing backdrop of the town and its actual natural environment. The crater remained static. Nothing changed in it from the centre up to the ridge they were sitting above and her guilt poured out of its seething centre._

_“You made a difficult choice,” the young woman said._  
 _“I...I had no choice, that’s the problem. It was do nothing and millions die or change the missile’s target and tens of thousands die,” Felicity said in a choked voice._  
 _“Was there no third option?”_  
 _“I...I don’t think so. I didn’t see one...”_  
 _“Why are there no birds in your sky? There weren’t any in Oliver’s either.”_  
 _“You met...you met Oliver? In a dream?”_  
 _“Yup! I was looking for my brother and there they were! Sitting down by the river. My brother is enamored with rivers. He is weird,” the young woman chuckled._  
 _“I don’t have a brother or sister,” Felicity said absently, “I always wonder what it’s like to have someone related to me like that.”_  
_“You must have been lonely growing up.”_  
 _“Not all the time. I had...I had my computers,” she said quickly, “We didn’t have much but we had enough.”_

_The young woman looked at her and cocked her head to the side, like the change of angle was giving her a different picture. Behind her, Felicity watched the seaside shift to a forest. Havenrock was adjacent to a park the size of Star city. It was enormous, deep and full of natural wonders like a cave lined with amethyst and citrine, a waterfall carved out of granite and more species of animals than Felicity could count. It was glorious and now, gone. Obliterated by radioactive fallout and the fire that spread out from the city as it dissolved to ash._

_Felicity looked down and sighed. She accepted that the guilt and grief would become part of her forever. It wasn’t something she ever wanted to forget or be absolved from, but she did need to forgive herself. She had found a sliver of forgiveness with Oliver’s help but she needed to make the rest of the journey on her own. Which made the presence of this young woman so perplexing._

_“There was so much lost here,” she said to Felicity, “no one person was more important than the other. They were all...so perfectly human.”_   
_“I know. The man responsible…,” Felicity trailed off, distracted by a glimmer of green on the other side of the crater. Whatever it was, it shone bright and then blinked out as quickly as it appeared._   
_“Come on! There is something I want to show you.”_   
_“Show me? In my dream?”_

_The young woman laughed, pulled her to her feet and together they walked down the path towards what eventually became a garden. It rose out of the mist and revealed itself to them in a swirl of colours and scents. Felicity saw lilies, roses, hyacinths, and daisies. She could smell all of them and more and they brought with them a sense of peace and tranquility. It reminded her of the garden Oliver had created for her._

_“Do you see them?” the young woman asked._

_At first Felicity was confused until she saw the flashes of orange, black, blue and green. Then the flashes became clearer as the bodies of butterflies came into view. The beating of their wings created a breeze that blew away the fog and sand that coated everything in her dream. There were millions of them and they flew out of the garden and surrounded them both._

_Their wings were feather light and brushed against their skin and just like that...they were gone. Fragile bodies fell to dust all around them but their wings had created a breeze, that was slowly becoming a wind that kicked up dust and debris, swirling it around them in a whirlwind that flung itself out across the crater._

_When the dust cleared, Felicity opened her eyes and saw that the scene had changed yet again. Now they were standing in front of the house she and Oliver had rented on the cul de sac in Ivy Town. It looked empty and cold. All the windows were dark and mail was piled up in front of the door._

_The house held so many wonderful memories. Ones made in such a short period of time. For just an instant, she felt Oliver’s breath on her neck and his voice in her ear, whispering something she couldn’t quite catch. When she strained to hear his words, his voice was stolen back by the wind created by the gentle beating of butterfly’s wings._

_“You sure love him, don’t you?” the young woman smiled._   
_“I do. Sometimes more than is really sensible.”_   
_“Why is this house so important?”_   
_“It was safe. It was home,” Felicity said wistfully as she stared at its vacant windows._   
_“Do you miss it?”_   
_“I miss the feeling of warmth and safety but...it was missing something,” Felicity said, “I needed more when we lived there even though I would have stayed if he had wanted to.”_   
_“Can’t you go back? Would you want to?”_   
_“I want something like it, with Oliver, but not here. This place has the past attached to it,” she said, her voice held a chord of sadness that traveled across her dream._   
_“Come on, Felicity. Let’s go back to the garden,” the young woman gently coaxed._

_Walking back to the garden in silence, Felicity stole a quick look at her companion. She looked sad as she looked back at the crater, but not a grief kind of sad. She looked introspective and thoughtful, as if what happened was inevitable and deserved a moment of silence in recognition and respect._

_Felicity watched something shift in the young woman’s face and she gave off the faintest odor of roses and lilacs. As she watched, the young woman became something otherworldly. Felicity was certain she saw the outline of wings spreading wide behind her and an ancient woman stood in her shadow. The young woman was hiding her identity but Felicity finally had a bead on who she was._

_“Why are we here? Is this a trip down memory lane? Letting me see all the places where hope, safety and joy died?” Felicity asked._  
 _“To see what is making you so despondent. What has your heart locked away behind all those layers and buried under all that debris. It isn’t just Havenrock. Sadness is attached to you,” the young woman said softly._  
_“Is that why you are here?”_  
 _“Maybe,” she said with a sly smile, “My brother is otherwise occupied.”_  
 _“You brother. Is he with Oliver?”_  
 _“I don’t think so. He says has A LOT to do,” she laughed, “He always pulls such a mopey face and complains about how busy he is when he really just likes to float on the wind or walk beside the river, throwing in his grains of sand.”_  
 _“Float...on the wind?”_  
 _“He likes to show off,” the young woman said with a roll of her eyes, “He may be older than me, but he is a terrible show off.”_  
 _“How so?” Felicity asked, smiling at the young woman and her theatric way of speaking._  
 _“Oh I have SO many stories but he’s listening in,” she said with an exaggerated wink, “The next time we see each other, I’ll tell you. Now, why do you think we are here? This is your dream after all.”_

_Felicity looked around to see what had changed. The crater was still there, surrounded by the sandy nothingness that she had woken up into, but she could see the distant outline of downtown Star City. It merged into the distant trees from black to green. It was a gradual transition of metal and steel to bark and earth. It was breathtaking and masked the carnage of the nuclear bomb._

_“All of this...is dead. It was delivered by me,” Felicity said slowly, “Even the garden. It was formed out of love because of everything and everyone that died. Havenrock was a sacrifice. I made...I made it a sacrifice.”_   
_“Damien is paying the price for that. You can’t cheat Destiny and not expect to pay in kind,” the young woman said grimly._   
_“I thought it was ‘you can’t cheat Death’?” Felicity teasingly asked._   
_“Oh no!” she laughed, “No one can cheat Death! A Universal constant, like life and death, can never be escaped. Everything and everyone dies eventually.”_   
_“Except Oliver,” Felicity chuckled._   
_“His story isn’t done yet. Everyone deserves their chance to have it told, on their terms.”_

_A flash of green on the crater’s edge caught Felicity’s attention yet again. It was like someone was running through patches of sunshine just out of view, never getting any closer than the opposite side of the crater. It didn’t alarm her, it did the opposite. It made her feel safe. She found herself seeking it out as a visual touchstone._

_“That makes me think about my story,” Felicity said softly, “I need to find out what it is actually going to be.”_  
 _“You will,” the young woman said encouragingly as she wrapped an arm around Felicity, “It is so close. You just have to want it.”_  
_“So when are we meeting outside of my head?”_  
 _“We are out of your head,” she laughed, “Dreams takes place in the Realm.”_  
 _“The REALM?” exclaimed Felicity._  
 _“Dreams are energy released and absorbed, but my brother can explain that much better than I can.”_

_Felicity stared at the young woman and took in her face, the depth of her eyes, the way she spoke and carried herself. All the hints were there she just didn’t listening or see._

_“Are...are you Death?” she asked hesitantly._

_The young woman smiled and then pulled Felicity into an energy filled hug. Felicity couldn’t help but laugh. She had always imagined Death as the stereotypical Grim Reaper. A mysterious figure, cloaked in dust, a cold and distant figure who had no humanity carrying a scythe not a vivacious young woman with killer style._

_“Don’t worry, Felicity,” she smiled, “the next time we meet it will be somewhere nicer.”_  
 _“But...won’t that...won’t that mean…?”_  
 _“OH NO!” Death exclaimed, “Everything will be fine. I just needed to see this as you see it. There is a lot we need to talk through, you and I.”_  
 _“And your brother is…?”_  
 _“Morpheus is what he goes by now,” Death said as she rolled her eyes, “He is so dramatic. I call him Dream.”_  
 _“Well, my dreams have been...interesting,” Felicity chuckled._  
 _“I know. He knows, too, obviously. You have met beings more powerful than he or I.”_  
 _“How is that possible?”_  
 _“It just is,” Death shrugged, “But they respect the Endless and we respect them. Even Universal constants have jobs to do. Now go on. I think he’s waiting for you.”_  
_“Who?” Felicity asked as she looked around them. All she saw was the forest that had sprung up around them._  
 _“Oliver. He’s been waiting over on the other side of the crater. But don’t worry! He is in his own dream,” Death said almost conspiratorially, “My brother is being territorial but we can fix that another day. Now, all you need to do is wake up.”_

_Death smiled as a flash of green pulled Felicity’s attention away. It danced through the forest so wake up is exactly what Felicity did._

 

 

III

 

There was a roar in Felicity’s ears as she climbed her way back to wakefulness. At first, she laid still with her eyes closed. Oliver was still behind her, breathing deeply and steadily as he slept on through the darkest hours before dawn. She drew comfort from the weight of his arm draped over her hip and the push of his chest against her back as he breathed deeply and steadily. From the stiffness of her body she could tell that they hadn’t moved all night.

He was so still behind her. For a man who was so often in chaotic but controlled motion, his stillness held so much power and never failed to pull her into his orbit. Even when she wanted to be far, far away like after he told her about William. The pain of that moment still lived inside her but she understood why it hurt so deeply and how hard they were both working to make sure something like that never happened again.

Oliver shifted in a way that was as familiar as the breath in her body. He was waking up, gently and softly, joining her in the cool, dark morning. Felicity felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and lost herself to a memory, one that rose unbidden to the surface of her mind, about the softness of his lips on hers, a gentle kiss that deepened as the heat grew between them.

A small slash of molten golden light appeared, separating the earth from the sky, it dimmed the stars as the light spread across the city. Time was moving steadily on and within a few minutes, their alarms would ring out from their phones and they would have to start the day.

She was tired. They were trying to do too much without the proper resources. Two major fires, hundreds of jobs lost, whoever this latest player was, they were a domestic terrorist. But careful, oh so careful. They rarely struck more than once every week and were so elusive not even she could get a bead on who it was or how big the organization truly was in size and scope.

“So I guess neither one of us could sleep long,” came a sleep heavy voice in her ear.  
“I really wanted to,” she sighed, “I am so tired, Oliver.”  
“I know,” he said softly, pulling her to him, “This weekend. You and me?”  
“Don’t tease.”  
“I’m not teasing. I am exhausted. Ever since we got back to work, it has been non-stop. We’ve had, what? Maybe one night together to do what normal couples do?”  
“That was last month. We had dinner at Big Belly Burgers. I think that it was on a Wednesday,” she chuckled.  
“Well, you and me, wherever you want to go. Three whole days,” he murmured as he left a soft kiss on her shoulder.  
“Three?” she said in surprise.  
“We’ve earned it. The recruits can take on a night or two on their own. Thea has volunteered to look after them.”  
“Really? Thea? I thought she was done with all of that.”  
“She is but she is doing this for you, not me,” he laughed.  
“You better make nice with her beyond City Hall. Although, I am grateful,” she smiled as she brought his hand up to her lips. She loved his hands, thickened skin on his knuckles and fingertips and all the battle scars. She had memorized them all.  
“I wonder how long we have…,” he said in a low voice as he moved his hand down her body, “until the alarm goes off?”

Felicity sighed as her body reacted to the heat of his touch and just as she was getting ready to turn into his embrace, both of their phones began to sing out their alarm songs. They both laughed at the timing of their modern technology. Oliver kissed her cheek and left the warmth of the bed to start the day.

“Do you have time to grab a coffee before heading into work?” she asked as she sat up and stretched out her stiff muscles.  
“I do if you get yourself in motion,” he called back from the bathroom.  
“Give me 15 minutes.”  
“Which means half an hour, right?”  
“It means 15 minutes!” she laughed as she pulled on a pair of jeans and dug out a sweater from the bottom of her dresser.  
“What do you have planned today?”  
“I have a couple of doctor’s appointments and then I need to do some work at the office.”  
“Is everything ok?” he asked in concern as he crossed the room to reach her. His fear was palpable  
“Yes,” she said reassuringly, moving to meet him halfway, “this is just to make sure the implant is ok and to check up on how my muscles are adapting. I still get really stiff at night and in the morning especially.”  
“Stiff in the morning?” he asked with a perfectly straight face.  
“Oh my God, Oliver!” she exclaimed as she reached to smack his arm.  
“OW!” he said in mock hurt, “You said it!”

Oliver’s sense of humour was breathtaking in its scope. He had the driest wit but still dipped into frat boy college humour if he was tired of wanted to make her groan in fake disbelief. She loved it. Every single bit of it. He was funny, smart and clever in ways she wasn’t and that created a beautiful kind of balance between them.

“Grab your coat, Queen, I’m ready to go!” she called.  
“I’ve got it on, Smoak, let’s go!”

They started their morning just as the sun had fully risen over the horizon. Felicity wished she had time for a shower, but she had to get across town to meet with the surgeon who put her implant in her back and the neurologist who wanted to make sure her nerves were regenerating properly. She wondered what Death would think about what she saw when she was in the brief coma after being shot.

Death. She had met DEATH in a dream. She wasn’t even questioning the insanity of it, considering all that she had seen already, but it did give her pause. Death was a lovely young woman with a Gothic sense of style and faint British accent. A lilt more than anything but there was a trace of something in her voice that spoke of a faraway place that Felicity hoped she would not see anytime soon.

A quick kiss from Oliver at the coffee shop next to her office and he was dashing off to his round of meetings and she headed into her office to do a few things left over from the night before. She had exactly two hours to kill and more things to do on her To Do list then there were hours in the day to actually do but there were a couple of things that took precedence.

The first being that Oliver needed new wheels. If she was quick, she could have it in the lair by the end of the following week. She also needed to make sure she had enough ear pieces for the team and that Thea was equipped and ready to go come the weekend.

“Speaking of which…,” she muttered to herself.

Digging into the bottom of her bag, Felicity pulled out the number that she needed and set about replacing Oliver’s beloved Ducati. She made sure that the bike she chose, the Superbike 1299 Panigale S, had the anti-reflective black paint, wider tires and zero shiny chrome. They could do it all, plus extend the seat by 6 inches, and have it ready the following Friday.

She also ordered a custom helmet and had it sent to Cisco at Star Labs for him to work his magic. He had a few ideas on how to utilize night vision in the visor to provide a sharper, clearer field of view for Oliver when he had to wear it. She knew Oliver was not fond of too much tech but this would help in the dead of night when he needed night vision.

The bike done, she moved on to the weekend getaway. It was more than that though. It was a reset. TIme for them both to reconnect beyond the physical. If her dreams were any indication, the conversation they were going to have was going to be long, difficult and full of a lot of tears. From both of them most likely.

Havenrock was still lurking so close to the surface of her mind. She was no longer afraid of it being there, instead she was afraid for the day when she would forget it. It was the first thing she thought about in the morning and often the last thing she thought about at night. It infiltrated her dreams and made her at home with the idea of death...and Death.

Death. She was still stunned that she had met Death. That Oliver had met Death and that they had both survived the encounter. She wondered what her doctor would say if she told her that she had met Death in a dream. She wondered if she would end up in the psyche ward as a permanent resident or just under a 72 hour hold.

She wanted the morning to be over so that she could get to work. She had an idea on a training plan for the recruits and was hoping to get into the bunker before Oliver so that she could set up and convince them that her idea was a good one. She hoped they all showed up and were cooperative. Especially Wild Dog. She was growing extremely tired of his attitude and refusal to be respectful to her and Thea. Oliver had picked up on her frustration the other night but wisely let her handle it in her way.

Her appointments went off without a hitch. The stiffness she was experiencing was a byproduct of the nerve cells not quite working right. They were functioning, thanks to the implant, but the damage that had been done to her spine had been extensive and she was going to have occasional twinges, aches and stiffness until the implant was fully integrated into her nervous system. Both doctors agreed she needed massage therapy and to maybe take up yoga to offset the stiffness.

Picking up more coffee and a bagel, Felicity made her way back to her office and set to work. She was still tracking down information on the men arrested after the robbery and arson and who they worked for. At the same time, she was dismantling the old cyber security system at the SCPD in the background to see just how awful it was. And it really was terrible. There were so many backdoors, she was surprised they hadn’t been hacked before.

Setting up in the garden, Felicity took a few minutes to just lay back on the lounge and let the heat of the late fall sun warm her body and breathed deep. The roses were still in bloom and the air held a heady floral perfume that soothed her soul and nerves. Closing her eyes for just a moment, Felicity allowed her body to completely relax, something her surgeon encouraged her to do, and let her consciousness drift.

_First it was just blackness, a deep dark nothingness filled with silence. Then she saw what looked like a fire burning deep within the heart of her dream. The embers that flew up and out from it slowly coalesced into a memory of tender longing and such deep love, so intense that she could feel it and her heart began to pound in her chest. It humbled and awed her._

_It wasn’t a memory based on anything she saw but rather what she felt after she was shot by Darhk’s men. She never told Oliver that she was aware of him in the first tentative hours after she was shot. Or that she knew when he wasn’t long there before she woke up for that first, terrifying time after the first surgery to save her life._

_She had only aware that, under the light of a dying universe shining down on the chaos of their world, she had ached to be closer to him, skin to skin, wrapped in his protective embrace. But she had been trapped in a body that was cocooned in opiates so that the agony of her wounds couldn’t reach her all the while listening to the sky visible in the window beyond Oliver’s silhouette as it sang to her._

The soft press of lips to her forehead brought her back to reality.

“Mmmm, is this my Prince Charming?” she mumbled with a smile.  
“Is that someone I need to have a word with?” Oliver said softly as she laughed, “Because I am more than willing to find this ‘Charming’ and…”

Felicity cut him off with kiss. She adored his sense of humour and the gentle way he could wake her up from so much pain with a smile on her face. His lips tasted like cinnamon and she caught a whiff of the faintly loamy smell of freshly turned earth had on warm fall days.

“So that’s how it is,” he murmured as he laid down beside her on the lounge, “using your feminine wiles on me to distract my attention,”  
“It’s working isn’t it?” she chuckled as she turned to face him.  
“When HASN’T it worked?”

Taking a moment to draw some of his warmth, Felicity listened to his heartbeat and was thankful for just that moment, nothing more, nothing less.

“How was the meeting with Star City Battered Women’s Shelter board?” she asked drowsily.  
“Terrifying,” he uttered in a low, deep voice.  
“What? How so?”  
“Annetta Williams is a force of nature. I think I agreed to funding the new building and possibly a new housing district and maybe jobs at City Hall for her and her board. I think I agreed to paint her shed, too,” Oliver said in the voice of a man defeated, “Then she got me to haul bags of dirt into her backyard for her garden. But she paid me in cinnamon buns. I have a couple for you.”  
“I wondered...I could taste cinnamon on your lips,” she smiled up at him.

Oliver grinned and kissed her, breaking it off when the intensity of their shared heat created sparks and their bodies started to move in their special, shared rhythm. Maybe later, when the night was done and they were home, they could resume what they had started.

Home. The more she thought about what a home was, or wasn’t, it became painfully clear that neither of them was living in one. He was in a hotel suite and she was in the loft. Both held belongings but no meaning, no memories or warmth. She loved her bed but the rest was just there, none of it meant anything without him there.

But it didn’t feel right to start that conversation yet, not with the other conversations they needed to have. They could work through it all, in truth they already were, but now wasn’t the time to talk about finding a new home.

“Hey, I have an idea for training the recruits,” she said by way of a distraction.  
“We are not building an obstacle course in the HIVE location,” Oliver said firmly.  
“How did you know?!”  
“You aren’t exactly subtle with your questions about tire heights and how far can someone fall off a rock wall and not get seriously hurt,” he chuckled.  
“But...”  
“No. I’ll put them through their paces tonight.”  
“Fine. But I still think we should build an obstacle course.”

Oliver pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her soundly until she started to laugh.

“How did your appointments go?” he asked.  
“Good. The stiffness and weird twinges I get are a result of the implant reigniting the nerve cells and spinal column. I’m supposed to spend time relaxing my body with massages or a nap with my own personal heating pad,” she said mischievously.  
“You’ll be ok, right? Are you in any pain?” Oliver had stilled his body and his hold on her grew firm like he was trying to keep her from floating away.  
“It’s ok, Oliver, I’m ok,” she said reassuringly, “I just need to listen to my body.”  
“Ok...but you’ll let me know if there is anything I can do, ok?”  
“Absolutely,” she said gently while she gazed up into eyes as blue as her own, “But we should get moving. I set up an alarm to alert us to specific crimes but so far…’  
“You mean we might have just a night of training and then...that’s it?” Oliver asked incredulously.  
“It is entirely possible,” she laughed.

These quiet, intimate moments were the calm they searched for right before the storm. The garden was sacred territory. They decided quietly one night that all work talk would be kept to a minimum within its walls. She remembered the night so clearly. It wasn’t long after he revealed the special box deep inside the central memorial sculpture. A nightmare had driven her out of the loft and into the garden, where Oliver found her the next morning.

The conversation that followed was tense, angry, and full of unspoken pleas. Oliver was wrestling with the hurt of not being who she turned to but with the desire to be present in the moment. Her struggle was with finding her voice to even speak the words of grief that were bubbling up to the surface. He had used work as a way to pry them out. Suggesting that she wasn’t ready to return and that it maybe had been the wrong idea for her to come back. The suggestion enraged her and she erupted.

It had been a brutal fight. She had let the grief pour out of her but also the rage of being victim to the violence of decisions forced upon her at him in his doubt in her ability and commitment to their shared mission. She had been forced out of her bed and home because the terror at being alone with her own mind was too much and she had focused all her hurt and rage on Oliver. But he refused to simply take it and they fought for what felt like hours.

It was when she got the hiccups that Oliver broke. His face twitched and then he started to laugh. And then she started to laugh. It was ridiculous. The whole argument was ridiculous and she could no longer remember what exactly set her off but the result was what followed: a moment of crystal clear communication between them. They made the decision that the garden was theirs for everything other than work.

“Come on, the young ones are waiting,” she said quietly.  
“So this weekend? You and me somewhere not here?” he asked as they untangled themselves and got up.  
“Yeah,” she smiled, “I found somewhere wonderful. Pack...like you normally do.”  
“So light and perfectly?” he said with a wink.  
“I don’t know how you do it…,” she shook her head in wonder and disgust.

Oliver laughed and brought one of her hands up to his lips and gave it a quick kiss before heading down to the lair. She was going to work up in the office for the first bit and join them in the comm centre for a lesson in comm links. The evening was going to be a tedious one but she felt able to be in the space with the team.

And tedious it was. Oliver trained them over and over on reactions to specific kinds of threats and then they all sparred for an hour. All the while she kept her eye on the calls coming into the SCPD and watched surveillance footage from the drone she had commandeered for the night.

Nothing big came up. A few robberies, one break in and a bunch of calls to break up fights in bars but the docks were quiet and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. So a few hours into the night, after the comm link training and past what should have been their busiest time, Oliver decided to send them all home. Rest was just as important as the training and the last few nights had been long for both of them, just not the team.

“They are coming along,” Oliver said somewhat pleased.  
“They are, you are turning out to be a good teacher,” she said as she released the drone and powered down the comm centre.  
“Wild Dog was calmer tonight.”  
“Hopefully he is growing up,” she grumbled.  
“I listened tonight. If he had called you anything other than your name…,” he said darkly.  
“I can handle him. Trust me.”  
“I have no doubt,” he smiled.  
“So are you as hungry as I am?”  
“I don’t think that is humanly possible,” he said and ducked as she lobbed a towel at him, “but I need a shower and to change my clothes. Give me ten minutes?”  
“Well, if I don’t die of starvation first,” she said in mock weakness.  
“It’ll be a fast ten,” he smiled.

Felicity watched him head off to the private shower he had installed for himself. He was changing right in front of her, into a new man, and he was so damn resistant to it. Out of everyone she knew, his inability to see how profoundly different he was from everyone around him, how unique and wondrous he truly was, felt like a bruise on her heart. His image of himself was still hazy and lost in the fog of exile.

Standing up to stretch, Felicity’s right thigh muscle cramped. It was a white hot stab of pain that went all the way down to the bone. It almost dropped her but she managed to sit down in her chair before the pain drove her to her knees and flexed her leg the way Oliver taught her. It helped enough that she was able to stand and stretch her leg so that she could walk.

Heat, she thought, I need heat.

With a smile, she made her way back to Oliver’s private area. Since he was in the shower, she may as well join him, especially while the water would undoubtedly be hot. One thing about Oliver, he loved his hot showers.

Quietly, she removed her clothes and carefully walked across the stone bathroom floor and waited for him to see her. She knew if she tapped on the glass shower door, it would trigger a memory in him that he had yet to reveal to her but she had seen his reaction and knew the trauma it caused him. She promised him to never do anything like it again.

“Hey,” he said with a smile when he turned around and saw her.  
“Hey,” she smiled back as she entered the shower.

And what a shower it was. He had spared no expense with it. Slate and stone wall, polished stone bench, and two angled waterfall showerheads. It was a masterpiece and one they hadn’t used nearly enough. The water was hot and instantly her leg relaxed.

“My thigh cramped and I thought…,’ she said slyly.  
“How bad did it cramp?” he asked, instantly concerned.  
“Not bad but it aches and I thought a hot shower would help.”  
“Come here,” he said as he lead her to the bench and pulled her onto his lap, “Your right leg right?”  
“How could you tell?”  
“You grimaced just a little bit as you stepped into the shower,” he answered as he started to massage her thigh.  
“That feels good,” she sighed, “I’m glad I listened to my body.”  
“Me, too,” he murmured as he sought her mouth, pulling her into a kiss.

“Oliver,” she said softly against his lips, “I think your hand has wandered away from thigh.”  
“I’ll get back to it, don’t worry.”

His hand, so strong and sure, had slowly made its way between her legs and his fingers were stroking up and down her length. His thumb found her clit and he circled it in a lazy rhythm that made her pant and hold onto him so tight she was sure she left bruises. She loved it when he built the tension in her slowly like this, every nerve in her body was singing. Her entire body felt every movement of his hand and fingers. His lips had found her neck, brushing past a pulse point that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Should we head to your place or mine?” she asked in a low voice.  
“Mine but not just yet,” he answered softly, “I think you still need to relax.”

Before she could protest, he slipped a finger inside of her, then another, and somehow made them thrum together. Her protest turned into a gasp and then a low moan of pure pleasure. He was in full command of her body now and as his lips found hers again, she could feel the heat in her pelvis slowly begin to spread outward.

“God, Oliver,” she gasped, “How do you do that?”  
“Shhh,” he said as he drew her into a long, passionate kiss.

He sucked her tongue to the same rhythm as he used his hand on her and she knew it wouldn’t be long until he pushed to her release. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders she held on and gave in. Her hips moved of their own accord and then her body relaxed as her orgasm rolled over her, sending her into that delicate place where pleasure mixed with the agony of ecstasy.

“Oh my God,” she moaned in a long, low voice, “Oliver...don’t slow down.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckled in that low voice he saved just for moments like this.

It was at that moment that another orgasm flooded her body. Sending fire bolts of electricity throughout her body, all the way down to her toes. Oliver maintained his rhythm and another climax burned through her. She gasped and clung to him, almost weeping at the intensity.

“I love you, Oliver Queen,” she whispered.  
“I love you, Felicity Smoak,” he murmured, “Let’s go back to the hotel.”  
“Ok but you might have to carry me,” she sighed.  
“Anytime, Smoak,” he smiled, “Come on, let’s go.”

Felicity touched his cheek and smiled. She knew there was no shame in holding onto grief, so long as she kept room for everything else, and how she felt for Oliver was part of that. The way he opened her heart was transformative and she held onto that feeling when grief threatened to drown her.

“I still need a massage on my thigh,” she said as she got dressed.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you when we get to my place,” he reassured her, “We literally have all night for once.”  
“You have some really odd ideas as to your stamina. You can run for miles at a time but…,” she said with a shake of her head.  
“You’ll pay for that, Smoak,” he said darkly.  
“After dinner, though, I am starving,” she said with a wink.  
“Hmmm, room service?”  
“Yes,” she said as she saw a flash of desire pass over his face, “I don’t think either of us are going to be wanting to cook.”  
“We should send the order in now so that it is ready by the time we get there,” he suggested.  
“Don’t ever let anyone call you ‘just another pretty face’, Oliver.”

Oliver just looked at her, with his perfectly still face and narrowed his eyes until she couldn’t help herself and started to laugh. He was trying to come up with a comeback and was coming up with nothing. She would pay for it later, in the most exquisite of ways to be sure, but she was enjoying herself and the looseness in her body that she felt from laughing.

After ordering dinner, they walked slowly back to his hotel. They talked about the readiness of the team to actually be out on the streets without them and the weekend to come. Felicity was convinced more than ever that they needed to talk about finding a new home for them. Spending another night alone in the loft filled her such intense sadness that she knew it was time they figured out what came next for them. Right at that moment, she was looking forward for the next few hours to come.


	6. Night Two: Emergence Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short interlude of Dream and Death watching something emerge from the darkness in Star City and briefly discuss the ways they have tried to warn humanity of incoming evil and danger.
> 
> The chapter gives us some insight into how the pair decide the boundaries of their interactions with humans and their curiosity regarding evil.

**Night Two: Emergence Part Two**

 

_Entering the hotel, neither one of them saw an oily blackness bubbling out sewer grate. It spread, low and thick across the road and vanished into a dark alley where it attached itself to the shadows and was reabsorbed by the night. Star City was about to encounter an evil as old as the Universe._

_Death stood back and watched it go. She was curious as to where it was actually going so she slipped between worlds and followed it. It oozed and slithered its way through sewer lines, coating the metal surfaces it touched in a film of grime and filth._

_Well, thought Death, wherever you are going, you sure are easy to trail._

_“Sister,” came a familiar voice from somewhere behind her._   
_“Brother!” she exclaimed happily, “How did you know I would be here?”_   
_“You are following what I am following.”_   
_“How would you, the Sandman, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, have any idea what that is?” she asked incredulously._   
_“I have seen it in the minds of those that sleep,” he answered._   
_“Do they know what it wants? Where it’s going?”_   
_“Not yet. I think a few dreamers have puzzled it out but they have only found a single thread, not the whole tapestry.”_   
_“Gawd. You are so...unbelievably formal,” she said with a roll of her eyes._   
_“Sister,” he admonished, “You know I take my responsibilities seriously.”_   
_“You could still let loose once in awhile,” she grumbled._   
_“I’ll leave that to our younger siblings,” he chuckled, “I believe that is Desire’s territory.”_   
_“Desire gets to have all the fun. Literally!”_

_Falling into an easy silence, Dream and Death floated between the world of the living and their worlds of dream and death. They watched the oozing black form slip out of the sewer and into the cracks of the city. It was sending tendrils of oily darkness deep into crevices not seen by human eyes._

_“I suppose we should let someone know what’s coming,” Death said, “Do you think we could just...tell them?”_   
_“Sister, do you remember the last time we simply told a human what was about to happen?”_   
_“I do, but how is it MY fault that Moses couldn’t hear me. Granted, I could have used a different way to communicate other than a burning bush. I was trying not to scare him about the leaves he was chewing but he was SO HIGH! How else would he see water turning into blood. No one listens,” Death pouted, crossing her arms and kicking at the pavement._   
_“You did wind up in the bible,” Morpheus said with a small smile._   
_“Hardly an accomplishment,” she laughed, “The only time I was ever physically present to watch was when Jael drove that tent peg through Sisera’s head. He had it coming, so I wanted to be there when he crossed through the realms.”_   
_“The Book of Judges, wasn’t it?”_   
_“Yup! Some of my best work,” she smiled._   
_“Have you figured out what is happening?” Morpheus asked._   
_“I think I have. It all relates back to the crater in Havenrock and the crater in Star City.”_   
_“What are you planning on doing?”_   
_“I’ll have to keep talking to Felicity. What are you going to do?”_   
_“It looks as if I will have to continue speaking with Oliver when he dreams.”_   
_“But you’ll keep them separated, won’t you? I mean, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job but…,” Death said with an exaggerated flourish._   
_“Never fear, dear Sister, I shall endeavour to retain a wall, a veil of sorts, between them. Luckily, there are no Immortals seeking to converse with them at the moment.”_

_Dream had to suppress a smile at Death’s sigh of aggravation. He knew that his formal speech was a source of supreme irritation for his younger sibling which is why he chose to be overly formal. He had spent an eternity locked in a cage and teasing Death was a fundamental pleasure in his life now. It was his secret sorrow that they had spent so long apart._

_“Well, big Brother,” she said with a sigh, “Shall we continue?”_   
_“Why, yes,” Dream nodded, “I think we shall. It seems to be headed towards the river. That is most curious.”_   
_“How so?”_   
_“It already flows like water, so what is it truly searching for?” he mused._   
_“A less formal speaker!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up towards the sky causing Dream to smile._

_Standing high above the river, Death and Dream watched the reflective surface of the being whose sole purpose was to create chaos and death. It was so ancient that its name had been lost to all but a few of the immortal scribes who could remember stars dead so long the Universe herself had forgotten she birthed them._

_This particular being was possibly the original evil that prompted early religions to adopt the concept of darkness as a living, breathing entity. It was there when the earth it now oozed across was forming out of colliding matter and the moon had yet to discover its true path._

_For the time being, Death and Dream watched its meandering journey through the city. It was relentless, filled with a hatred so old and familiar to the being that without it, it would be naked, defenseless and without a true purpose. It had reason to be here in Star City but, until it revealed what that was, all the Endless siblings could do was watch and wait._


	7. Day Three: Getaway Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all Oliver. It looks at things he might do as Mayor, a nightmare from his Bratva past, and the return of Morpheus who is more curious than helpful. 
> 
> He and Felicity connect through some really intense massage and sex. What can I say? Sometimes they gotta just do it. A lot. 
> 
> VIOLENCE WARNING: I get momentarily graphic in his nightmare. It is brief but really intense and violent.

**Day Three: Getaway Part One**

_He stepped lightly_   
_Through the quiet halls_   
_Of his life._

I

Oliver wearily rubbed his eyes as he leaned against the back wall of the elevator leading up to his office. The night before had been exhausting and the lack of sleep was starting to become an issue. He wasn’t as young as he used to be and four hours sleep for nights on end was grinding him down. He needed a break, just a couple days, to recharge his batteries and reclaim some semblance of balance between his two worlds.

Thinking back over the morning, he would have much rather have slept in and spent the morning in bed with Felicity. His slumber had been almost free of dreams, but he had a hazy memory of being in the forest somewhere nearby and seeing flashes of gold in the sunlight that was able to reach the forest floor. He smiled at the memory of her body pressed against his in the warmth of her bed. Instead, he was preparing for a meeting with a group of women who could technically be considered the true heroes of the City and he was legitimately terrified of the Executive Director.

Annetta Williams. Even her name made him break out into a cold sweat. She was a force to be reckoned with in general but when it came to the city’s most vulnerable and victimized, she was relentless. At sixty three years old and standing at an even five feet tall, she had seen her fair share of injustices. Raised in the segregated south, her family, descendants of men and women sold into slavery but who worked and fought their way to freedom, she was incapable of being anything other than victorious.

She had formed a taskforce ten years ago and convinced the Mayor then to build the first centre for battered women and their families. It had provided counseling, day care, nutritional support, financial services and rehousing opportunities. But it wasn’t enough. The city’s most vulnerable needed something more comprehensive, proactive and secure. Which is why he was getting briefed by Thea on the amount of money they actually could commit to the project developed by the Star City’s Domestic Violence task force.

They had even contracted Felicity, whom Annetta adored, to design their cyber security profile and system as a way to really draw him into agreeing with their position and business plan. There was no way he would say no anyways. He had seen what so many women went through who were in relationships with the most violent men in the city. It didn’t matter what zip code they lived in or what their income was, he had seen it all.

But that still didn’t stop his knees from shaking when he crossed the field to where she and her organization were standing, waiting for him, along with their construction crew chief, architect and landscape team. This was the official groundbreaking ceremony with no press, no cameras, nothing - just the small group of officials and professionals each armed with a small shovel to symbolically reclaim the land.

Annetta zeroed in on him immediately after they broke ground, with each participant being given a small vial of dirt to take with them, and began her subtle campaign to get an increase in the amount of funding they were receiving and how to leverage for more in kind support. He agreed to it all, mostly out of the fear of letting her down, immediately and with zero thought. She just had that effect on him where he felt like he was back in grade school and standing in front of his class trying to answer math questions. He felt his cheeks turn red and a hot flush creep up his neck and wanted to run back to his car to hide.

He was the Green Arrow and Mayor of Star City and Annetta had his number. When she asked for his help getting a few things back to her home on the edge of the Glades, he immediately agreed. He was happy to help in any way he could, thinking she was talking about the boxes of plans stacked next to her van.

How wrong he was. Those she handled without even breaking a sweat but then he saw the interior. It was stacked high with 20lb bags of topsoil. At a quick glance, he counted fifteen bags. When he looked at her, she smiled and patted his arm.

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Mayor,” she chuckled in her rich alto voice that still held her Southern drawl, “I’ll make sure you have enough sweet tea and cinnamon buns to power you through all the heavy lifting.”

Oliver relaxed as he listened to her laugh. The afternoon would prove to be a physically exhausting one but the hard work helped clear his head. By the end of it, he felt almost energized despite having hauled over 1000 lbs of dirt to her huge garden, he was looking forward to training the recruits and possibly spending the evening with Felicity.

“Now, Mr. Mayor,” she began in her sternest of voices.  
“You can call me Oliver, Mrs. Williams,” he said congenially.  
“Well, now then, Oliver,” she smiled, “You can come on in and wash up in the mud room and then join me in the kitchen for some tea.”

Oliver knew better than to protest, so he did as he was told and then joined her in her warm and colourful kitchen. Everywhere Oliver looked was a memory held precious to Annetta and her family. Photographs covered the fridge and art from her hometown in Mississippi and ancestral homeland of Ghana covered the walls. It was warm, inviting and stood in stark contrast to the simple, yet elegant way she dressed and presented herself in public.

“Those pictures on the fridge are my grandchildren,” she smiled, “I’ve got four of them so far.”  
“How many children do you have?” he asked.  
“I have four. Three girls and one son, about your age,” she answered, “I worked hard to be a good mother to them after their father died. My mother had a saying: You are only as good as the ones raised you. How about you, Oliver? Are you and Felicity planning on a large family?”

Oliver had just taken a bite of one of the promised cinnamon buns and almost choked on it. Annetta laughed at him and refilled his glass of sweet tea while he regained some of his composure.

“We...we haven’t...we haven’t really talked about that yet,” he managed to choke out.  
“Well, I’m not one to pry but I know two people destined to be together for the natural course of their lives and you two, you have that look. You both also look like you will make good parents for whenever that happens,” she said as she sat down, “Just be good to her, Oliver, and all will be well.”  
“I’m doing my best,” he said with deeply felt sincerity.  
“Yes, son, I know,” she said kindly, “I never knew your people, but I could see the effect your coming home had on them. They were lost without you. When you came back, all that changed. All of it. Your momma would be so proud of what you have become.”

Oliver looked down at his hands, feeling the biting sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. The mention of his mother and the possibility of he and Felicity having children hit him hard. He knew, deep down, that his mother would have been a formidable but remarkably loving grandmother and that Felicity would be as fearless a parent as she was a partner. With both Felicity and Moira, he would have been at a serious disadvantage but one he would have welcomed had Slade’s blade not sliced through his mother’s loving heart.

“Fret not, Oliver,” Annetta said as she gently patted his knee, “You carry her memory in your heart. Your children will still be blessed by her presence and love. The same goes for your father. They are never far from reality when you love their memories into existence.”  
“Thank you, Mrs. Williams,” he said softly.  
“Eat up,” she said gently, “I’ll pack up a few of these buns for you to give to Felicity. I will check with her to make sure she got them.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of eating them all,” he said smiling as he finished his afternoon snack. It was sugary sweet and deliciously homemade.  
“My husband would never show your restraint,” she laughed, “Here you go, Oliver, and I expect to get that Tupperware back.”  
“I’ll be sure to have Felicity return it,” he smiled as he got up to leave.  
“Thank you, Oliver, for all your support with this project,” she said seriously as he slipped his shoes back on.  
“It’s my honour,” he replied and he meant it. It was an honour to be taken into this woman’s confidence and to gain her respect. He was humbled by it and intended to make sure he stayed worthy of her rarely given affection.

The drive back to City Hall took him past the crater left by Darhk’s imploding subterranean dome. It was large and they needed to figure out how to deal with it. The recovery of all the bodies they could locate had taken place, now they needed to sterilize the existing soil and fill it in. It was a constant reminder of the horror and evil that one insane man had wrought on his city.

As Oliver watched the shadows of the encroaching forest stretch over the yawning chasm, he thought he spotted something oily moving along the ground. It undulated and spread, only to retract and disappear from view. He rubbed his eyes and made a mental note to grab some coffee on his way into his office as he wrote what he saw off as a mild sleep deprived induced hallucination.

Making an executive decision, he decided that he was taking the rest of the day off. His calendar was mercifully clear and it was almost 4:30 pm. Sending a text to Thea, he told her he would see her the next morning and to take the rest of the day for herself. She would need to be rested up if she was to quarterback the recruits for the next few days.

On instinct, when he got a coffee for himself, he also got a latte for Felicity. If she was anywhere near as tired as he was, she would welcome the offering of the cinnamon bun and caffeine with open arms. They hadn’t spoken in a few hours but somehow he knew she would be in the garden when he got her office. The fall days were unseasonably warm and she had moved the lounge recliner so that it stayed in the sun all afternoon. He wished he could take advantage of it more often but was glad she had found a place of such unguarded peace.

Walking quietly through her office, he glanced out of one of the large leaded glass windows and there she was, glowing in the sun but sound asleep in its rays. He had to smile. She had her tablet cradled so gently in her arms when he was certain anyone else would have dropped it. Watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, he felt the pull to be beside her and was suddenly grateful that tonight was simply a tactical training night with the recruits.

Crossing the garden to where she slept, Oliver leaned down and gently kissed her forehead and felt, all in one big rush, that he did want to have children one day but only with her. He was staggered by the way the feeling wrapped itself around his heart and held on. When she moved, without opening her eyes, to make room for him next to her, he immediately laid down and took her in his arms. She had turned towards him and gave him a gentle kiss. She tasted like the sun and he was reluctant end it.

For a fleeting moment he thought about canceling the training session and locking them into the garden for the night but she made a good point: that they needed to be sure they would be safe and then all work talk stopped which he was glad because it meant she would stop trying to make her training idea happen. He could probably do it himself but the recruits would not and he wasn’t interested in listening to Curtis whine about getting blisters anymore.

Instead, he steered the conversation back to her day and all things not related to work. He loved these quiet moments. The level of intimacy shared between them were as close to perfection as he could ever imagine. It made the decision to keep this as their very own sacred space even more important to him. The argument that had lead to it was hazy in his memory, he just remembered her fury and the inevitable collapse of the fight when she began to hiccup and he started to laugh. The fight had ended with them both laughing and finally communicating openly and honestly.

Although he hated fighting from an emotional place, with her it was...different. He felt blown apart and then put back together stronger and more stable than before. So now he just laid with her as she told him about her appointments with her surgeons and the continuing issues she was having with nerve cell regeneration in her thighs.

She reassured him that she would tell him when things weren’t right, that she would ask for and accept his help when she needed it. Oliver trusted her on this. It was her body and her choice but he knew she trusted him enough to seek him out when she was hurting. He still felt so profoundly responsible for her injuries but the guilt had lessened over the past few months. She had made him forgive himself with each kiss and shared breath.

If he had no other reason to love her other than that one, it would have been enough, but that was just one example of how she had impacted his life for the better. Every moment with her gave him hope and life, he could never repay her but he could love her for the rest of their lives openly and honestly.

The heat between their bodies was slowly building and his hands were slowly finding her curves as they travelled down her body. He wanted to stay. To lock the elevator and turn out the office lights, message the recruits to stay home, and just the next few hours in the garden with Felicity. She had mentioned his lips tasting like cinnamon and something about her voice stirred his body. They made the mutual decision to get up and get themselves downstairs before things went too far.

The training session went exactly as planned. He was determined to drill into their heads the correct tactical and strategic ways of approaching a target. When they were able to develop a plan and carry it out without a hitch, no matter what he literally threw at them, he felt satisfied and was able to move on to a couple of rounds of sparring with them individually while Felicity did her testing of the ear pieces.

He paid close attention to Rene and how he was speaking to the others, in particular, how he was treating Felicity. Oliver had just about had it with Wild Dog and his continued disrespectful behaviour. If necessary, he was willing beat some manners into him, especially if he called Felicity anything other than her name. So far, he was minding his mouth and propensity to aggressively irritate the others and following directions. Whatever demons he was battling, they weren’t sitting on his shoulder tonight.

When they left for the night, Oliver realized it was only 9 pm. He hadn’t had an early night like this in well over a month and felt a little giddy to be done and alone with Felicity when there was still so much of the night left. Looking at her, as she sat at her station going over more streams of information than he thought possible for one human to process, he found himself wanting to get changed and back to one of their places sooner rather than later.

He felt a twinge, deep down, as he thought about their separate homes. If ‘home’ is what the spaces could be called. He only slept when she was beside him but he wasn’t completely comfortable in the loft. It held memories that shouted at him when she would leave the room. He would catch glimpses of their life before William, Darhk and all that happened after she found out and the longing that he would feel in the pit of his stomach would nearly destroy him.

Maybe, one day in the future, they could talk about finding a home together. As Oliver entered his private shower he let his mind wander over the possibilities and joy a new start could bring them. Creating new memories together and start a life all their own held a seductive appeal for him. He was lost in thought and missed hearing Felicity enter the room a few minutes later.

He turned and saw her in the rising steam. She was nude, having removed her clothing, and was standing watching him as he showered. He felt a surge of love for her when he realized she waited for him to see her rather than surprise him or tap on the glass door. He had said that the sound of tapping on glass was a trigger for him but had yet to tell her why and there she was, respecting that internal agony and him by waiting.

As he watched her enter the shower, he noticed she grimaced ever so slightly as she entered and knew immediately that the muscle in her right thigh had probably cramped. Heat and massage, in that order, were what she needed.

Knowing that nerve pain was excruciating and watching her handle what was likely more pain than most normal people could ever stand, was just another reason why he loved her. So he welcomed her in and waited until she told him how her thigh had cramped with stabbing pain. Then, he gently pulled her towards him and walked her over to the low, wide stone bench and got her to sit across his lap.

It was his intention to work the muscle gently so that she could walk without pain but the feel of her skin on his, the way she smelled and how she clung to him would prove his undoing. His hands wandered low on their own and then he was circling her clit with his thumb and feeling the tidal wave-like force of her orgasms, one after another, until she went limp in his arms.

He had a plan for her leg and body but only for back at his hotel suite. Wisely, they ordered dinner before leaving the lair and walking slowly back to the hotel. She was loose and relaxed but he could tell the nerves in her thigh were still not behaving right. Heat and gentle massage were what she needed most even if they were having trouble focusing on anything beyond the sight and smell of each other’s bodies.

“So what did you order us?” he asked as a way to refocus his mind.  
“The chef’s special. I think it is a ginger beef stirfry.”  
“Dessert?”  
“...maybe.”  
“But I have Annetta’s cinnamon buns!” he exclaimed.  
“I know! We can have those in the morning before we head out,” she laughed.  
“Are you packed already?”  
“Well, not completely but almost!”  
“Felicity…,” he said with a warning note in his voice.  
“All I have to do is go back up to the loft, pack my toothbrush and grab my extra charger. Promise.”

Oliver kissed the top of her head as they approached the front of the hotel and smiled. It would take longer than that but he loved her optimism and perennial ability to believe in herself. He remembered then that he still had no idea where they were headed in the morning. He would be driving but he would like to know how far away from the city they would be.

“Any hints on where we are headed to for three glorious days?” he asked as they slipped onto a crowded elevator. There was a party happening somewhere as all the men and women in the car were drunk or on their way to being so.  
“Nope. Not yet,” she said with a smile.

Oliver was about to say something to her when he noticed one of the men leering at Felicity. Standing as tall as he could, and squaring his shoulders out so that his jacket strained across his chest, Oliver stared the man down. The moment he narrowed his eyes, the man backed down and was off the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

“And what the hell was that about?” Felicity asked as soon as the elevator emptied out.  
“What the hell was what?” he asked, feigning innocence.  
“Oh, you are hilarious,” she laughed, “Now for sure you can wait to find out where we are going.”  
“Felicity!”  
“Nope! We’ve had this discussion before, Oliver.”  
“I wasn’t protecting you…”  
“YOU WERE MARKING YOUR TERRITORY!” she exclaimed with a loud laugh.  
“Oh, I will mark my territory alright,” he said in his low and dark voice.

Felicity still laughing as they entered the suite. The air was chilly in its dark expanse, so Oliver turned on the gas fireplace and quickly pulled her into down onto his lap as he sat down on the couch.

“I sure hope dinner gets here soon,” he murmured with his lips on her neck. He was trying to not tickle her with his beard and was happy to hear a soft, contented sigh escape her.  
“Mmmm...me, too,” she said softly, “at least that way I can take off my shoes and relax for a minute or two.”  
“I was meaning to ask...where are your heels?”  
“Oliver, you don’t wear heels with yoga pants.”  
“Well, I don’t but you definitely should.”

Before she could admonish him, there was a soft knock on the door announcing that their dinner had arrived. Oliver went to retrieve it and when he turned back, she was reclined on the couch, staring into the dancing flames. She looked content and oh so beautiful. If he wasn’t already intimately familiar with her, he would have thought her hair was spun gold by the way it shone and reflected the light.

“Ready?” he called softly.  
“Oh my goodness, yes!” she exclaimed.  
“Don’t get up, we’ll eat in front of the fire.”  
“Picnic style?”  
“You know it, Smoak.”

With a small smile, she slipped down to the floor and waited for him to bring her their dinner. She ordered well and a lot. He teased her often about her appetite but in truth, he could eat his own body weight when he got hungry enough and tonight was one of those nights. Even the dessert was perfect. He smiled knowingly at her as she spooned strawberries and real whipped cream into bowls for them.

 

“How is your leg feeling?” he asked as they sat side by side in front of the fire.  
“Stiff. Which means it will be cramping again soon, I think.”  
“Finish up your strawberries,” he said as he got up to clear away their dinner dishes, “I have a little surprise for you in the bedroom.”  
“Oh Oliver, you shouldn’t be-”  
“Felicity…,” he said warningly.  
“so hard-”  
“I’m warning you…”  
“On-”  
“Last chance…”  
“...yourself.”  
“That’s it,” he said as he put the dishes in the hall and closed the door with the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob.

In three long, easy strides he crossed back to her and scooped her up off of the floor. Felicity said nothing. She just smiled up at him, looped her arms around his neck and planted a loud, lip smacking kiss on his cheek. He knew the teasing was her way of flipping the script between them. It was refreshing, honest and so sexy he was almost willing to skip the massage he had planned for her but he pushed his desire down.

_Not yet, he thought as she gently stroked his cheek._   
_Not yet, he thought as his body twitched in response._   
_Not yet, he thought as the memory of her taste exploded in his mouth, but definitely very soon._

And then what she had warned might happen, happened when he set her down on her feet. The same leg, the right one, buckled, her face went white and she almost lost consciousness due to the severity of the pain that shot through her leg. He sank to the ground with her sitting across his lap, wrapped his arms around her, he held her tightly until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed. He knew better than to touch her leg when the nerves were misfiring, she didn’t even need to warn him, he understood the icy fiery pain in her leg and how touching it would be agony.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her voice muffled as she had pressed her face into his shoulder.  
“Hey, you don’t have to apologize,” he said firmly but with love, “I’m here, I caught you, we’ll work this through. Do you need any painkillers? You left a couple here the other night.”  
“No, I’m ok,” she said, “The feeling is coming back and also going away. If that makes any sense whatsoever.”  
“It does,” he chuckled, “Let’s just stay here until you can stand. There is no rush, not tonight.”  
“Ok,” she said softly as she pulled herself closer to him, “I love that the fireplace is for the living room as well as the bedroom.”  
“It is a handy design feature.”  
“The warmth is helping. From it and you.”

Oliver wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on top of hers. As each moment passed, he felt the tension in her body leave and the gentle way she was caressing his arm. It would be instinctual to tip her her head back and kiss her but he didn’t. He thought of all the times her lips had found his and helped him find the scattered pieces of his shattered soul. She had pulled them up to the surface of his heart for him, holding them in the palms of her hands for him to find when was ready to recreate himself, whole and complete.

In his darkest unseeing moments, he had blindly hunted through the starry void of night for her hands until he found her. Oliver loved her with infinite tenderness and would wrap himself around her, allowing the weight of her love to hold him fast to their shared world where one could not exist without the other. And right now, the woman who mirrored his heart was healing still from her near death experience and she needed him to be her pillar of strength.

“Felicity...is the pain getting worse?” he asked after a few minutes of easy silence.  
“Not worse and not more frequent...it’s moving from leg to leg, though.”  
“Is that...ok?”  
“They think so. I’m waiting for the results of the latest tests,” she sighed as she gently stroked his arm.  
“How’s your leg feeling now?”  
“It’s calming down. I feel like I can maybe stand up now.”

Carefully, Oliver helped her stand up, watching her face to see just how truthful she was being. When she looked up at him and gave him one of her radiant smiles, he almost started to weep just for the joy of seeing it. He had known men so hard and conditioned to pain that repeated blows to the face and head hadn’t been able to slow them down but when nerve pain was thrown into the mix by a well placed strike, they would drop to the ground in writhing agony and would often be killed where they lay. Not a single one of them could have survived a day in her shoes.

“You are so strong,” he said in awed admiration.  
“For standing?” she asked with a wink.  
“Yes,” he said in genuine sincerity, “When...when anyone else would be reaching for a pill bottle or wheelchair, you are standing.”  
“Oliver…”  
“What?” he chided gently as he held her close, “I can’t compliment the woman I love?”  
“Well, when you put it like that…,” she said smiling up at him.

Oliver resisted the powerful urge to kiss her lips, her body, and to quench the building fire in his blood. He knew if he did, the night would be lost and he had something special for her after all the pain she had been through during the day. He was already packed for their weekend, something she studiously avoided commenting on out of sheer jealousy, because he wanted to focus on her. It had been weeks since they had had a chance to just be in each other’s company.

“Come on,” he murmured softly, “Let me help you get undressed.”  
“What?” she said with a confused laugh.  
“Let me help you get undressed,” he said again as he lifted her shirt up.  
“What about you?”  
“In due time,” he smiled.

She narrowed her eyes but relented and lifted her arms. It was only when her shirt was over her head that he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Felicity wasn’t going to make this easy for him. He fought down the impulse to trial his calloused fingertips down the inside of her arms just to make her shiver.

“Too cold?” he asked.  
“No, actually,” she said sighed in contentment, “It’s warm in here. I love the heat the fireplace is throwing off.”  
“Good,” he said in a low, soft voice that held the sweet early notes of desire and longing.  
“What exactly do you have planned?”  
“You’ll see,” he said evasively as he undid her pants. He was secretly praying that she had underwear on and almost shouted hallelujah when he felt the satiny fabric, “So, fancy underwear but no bra?”

Felicity said nothing, she simply looked up at him and grinned.

“Felicity Smoak, you will be the death of me,” he said with a shake of his head, “Come on, lie down on your back.”  
“On that lovely thick towel?”  
“You got it.”  
“You’ve been planning this for a while now, haven’t you?”

Oliver winked at her, causing her to roll her eyes in mock annoyance, but she let him guide her to the bed so that she could recline back on the towel. There was no self conscious covering of her breasts or attempts to disguise her nudity. She was comfortable, relaxed and trusting. He had tried to figure out the moment where the tide shifted between them and she opened herself to the idea of trusting him and couldn’t. He was just so humbled that she did.

He could feel her eyes watching him as he walked around the bed in order to retrieved a jar from the bedside table. She narrowed her eyes and he knew he was about to get a barrage of questions.

“Before you ask...yes, this is from Lian Yu.”  
“Did Yao Fei show you what to make for nerve pain?”  
“Yes and no. He showed me the right roots and flowers but it was an old man in Russia who taught me how to properly massage someone with nerve pain like yours.”  
“Bratva,” she said with finality.  
“Yes, Bratva,” he said, sitting down next her. Her skin was golden in the firelight and she looked, in short, like a goddess reclining under a distant sun.

Felicity looked up at him with tentative grace and waited. She had very specific questions about his time in Russia but he wasn’t ready yet to open up those rooms in his mind and let the memories out and was so grateful that she knew to not push.

“Ready?” he asked softly.  
“Ready,” she smiled.

Oliver opened the jar and released the gentle earthy aroma of verbena, St. John’s Wort and ginseng all held in a scentless mineral oil base. He was hoping it would relax her mind so that he could focus on her body and gently knead the large thigh muscles in both of her legs without irritating the nerves.

“That smells amazing,” she sighed.  
“Hopefully, it will work like I remembered it working,” he muttered.  
“Even if it doesn’t, I will smell divine.”

Chuckling, he took some of the balm and rubbed his hands together to warm it up and then started with her arms at her shoulders, he worked his hands firmly down to her fingertips. He repeated the same motion over and over until her eyes closed and her breathing grew deeper and calmer. She looked serene in the firelight as he worked the salve into her skin and warmed up her muscles.

“Oliver?” she said quietly.  
“Hmmm?”  
“You missed your calling.”

Shaking his head, he warmed up some more of the salve in his hands and started on her chest. Working from her shoulders, he began a steady pattern with his thumbs at the base of her throat and slowly worked his hands down over her breasts, then allowed his hands to span her ribcage, abdomen and around her waist. The journey back up her body followed the same path. He created a circuit on her skin and was glad to see her relax even further into the bed.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to fall asleep,” she murmured.  
“Oh no, you will need to move in about 5 minutes,” he warned.  
“I hope not far.”  
“Only over onto your stomach but not yet, so just keep breathing deep.”

Moving back up to her shoulders, he moved both hands down one arm and then the other before circling back up to her shoulders and pulling down the centre line of her body. She was so small under his hands. It was mesmerizing for them both. He loved the way she didn’t resist the way he was massaging her muscles and she was obviously lost in the moment. The next bit was more tricky as he slowly worked his way to her thighs but just for a moment, he paused to see how much of her body he could cover just by splaying open his fingers.

“You are so tiny,” he mused.  
“Sweet talker,” she said with a quiet chuckle.  
“Felicity, I need you to tell me if anything I do from this point on hurts, ok?” he instructed seriously. He wanted to be careful not to trigger the nerves.  
“Ok.”

Oliver took a deep breath and started to slowly work his hands down her left thigh. He used his thumbs to hit pressure points under her hip and felt the muscle soften just enough that he could drag his fingers firmly along the connective seams between the two largest muscles in her leg. Glancing up at her face, he saw she was still relaxed and breathing deep and slow. When he moved to her right thigh, she winced a tiny bit but then relaxed as he worked gently and carefully from her hip to her foot.

“So far, so good,” she whispered.  
“Your skin is going to be so soft when I am done.”  
“I think so, too,” she said drowsily.

Smiling, he continued to gently massage her right thigh until her skin was glowing. He finished this particular section of the massage off with one last circuit of her body. Firmly moving down her arms, back up to her shoulders and down again to her hips and then each leg. She was loose, calm, and pliant under his fingers and hands. Felicity trusted him completely and he felt a familiar stirring deep in his pelvis. He loved her with a ferocity that made everything in the room fall away until all he could see, feel and smell was her.

The longer his hands stayed connected to her skin, the more chaotic the feeling became. The closest he could think to describe it as feeling was a fever. Hotter than any he had ever experienced and it was burning him alive from the inside out. His fingertips grazed past the one bullet wound scar on her torso, from the only bullet that passed through her body that horrible night, and it burned him like he had touched an oven element set to high.

“Ok, how does that feel?” he asked as he wiped his hands off on the towel, breaking the contact between their bodies.  
“Heavenly. That, I mean, Oliver...that was wonderful.”  
“Good. Sit up.”  
“Yes, sir,” she said without moving a muscle.  
“Come on,” he laughed, “Take my hands.”

Without even opening her eyes, she reached out and put her hands instinctively into his. Oliver pulled her up to a seated position and then helped her up onto her knees. Smoothing her hair out of her face, he waited for her to finally rejoin him.

“Oliver,” she said almost dreamily, “thank you.”  
“Felicity,” he admonished, “you never have to thank me. Ever.”  
“I know, but this...I needed this and I need you know how thankful I am for you.”  
“Then it is my pleasure,” he said softly, fearing his voice would betray the depth of emotion she had tapped into.  
“Now, I think you need to take your shirt off because I am going to hug you.”  
“Is that the only reason I need to take my shirt off for?” he teased.  
“For now.”

Oliver pulled his shirt off and found that she was watching him through half opened eyes. With a small smile, she pulled him into a fierce embrace. He could feel her heart beating in her chest and it ricocheted through his body, skipping like a stone over water, leaving ripples of heart stopping love in its wake. The warmth of the room and the heat pouring off of her body left him feeling relaxed and calm as the stress of the day filtered out of his body.

“What now?” she asked softly.  
“Now, I’m going to get behind you and you are going to lie down on your stomach.”

Felicity pulled back, cocked an eyebrow and looked at him with a suggestive smirk.

“Not...not for that!” he laughed.  
“Well, I don’t know!” she laughed, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”  
“Just...just turn over.”  
“Oh my God. You’re blushing!”  
“Felicity…”  
“Oliver,” she said before he could get up, “Never stop being adorable but you are painfully overdressed.”  
“You are determined to get me out of my clothes aren’t you?”  
“Well, duh,” she laughed as she turned over and laid down again.

With a soft chuckle, he got up off the bed and slipped out of his pants and knelt over her, making sure to keep his legs on either side of hers.

“Ok, just relax,” he said in a subdued voice. He was slowly working his thumbs down her spine, ending just a few inches above the incision the surgeon had made to put her implant in.  
“Ooooh,” she gasped, “that is a different sensation.”  
“Does it hurt?”  
“No, it is electric but in a good way.”  
“Ok, bear with me. If this hurts…”  
“I know, tell you.”

Oliver focused on moving his hands all over her back, arms, sides and down her legs. He was loosely following the same path he hands traveled during the first part the massage but this time he allowed himself to linger on specific parts of her body. Felicity responded by sighing deeply each time his hands made the journey back up to her shoulders.

“Oliver, that feels amazing,” she whispered.  
“Your thigh is loosening up?”  
“Mmmhmmm.”

For the next ten minutes, Oliver focused on Felicity’s back. It still sucked the breath from his body to see the red, ropey scars from her multiple gunshot wounds. He gently traced each one before tracing the connecting lines of surgical scars and gently massaging more of the healing balm into her skin. Every pass over the ridges of the map of violence and mayhem on her back was a stab in his heart.

She didn’t blame him for the injuries but he did. He let her think that he was at peace with it but he had created a space inside himself where he let the guilt lived. It never grew but it also never left him. He had betrayed her so profoundly leading up to that moment that he refused forgive himself.

How could he when she had been paralysed and left to face a life of uncertainty and pain? He had been through hell, faced evil so great it took magic from another realm to defeat it, but both his greatest challenge and accomplishment was once more being worthy of the woman who had placed her body literally into his hands to heal and love. Her trust gave his life a deeper meaning and acted like a lighthouse when his thoughts clouded over and fogged him in.

With his thumbs, he lightly pressed into either side of her spine just above the gentle rise of her butt and curves of her hips. It was where the largest bundle of nerves in her back were in direct contact with her implant and where the issue with the nerves in her legs was originating. He felt her tense and then relax under the continuous pressure of his hands. It was her soft hiss of pain that made him stop the alternating pressure he was applying next to her implant scar.

“Felicity?” he asked, making himself stay completely still, “What? What did I do?”  
“Nothing, it hurts but not in a bad way, if that makes sense. It felt...like when a muscle cramp finally lets go and you get that burst of pain but then it ends and feels...normal.”  
“I think I should stop,” he said uncertainly.  
“No,” she said quickly and with finality, “I want you to continue. I can actually feel my legs in a way I haven’t since...before....”  
“Ok,” he agreed, hearing the notes of sadness resonating in her voice, “but I am almost done. Then I’ll just need you to relax for a bit.”  
“I think I can manage that. We’ll need to do this again,” she murmured.  
“Yes, we will,” he mused softly as he instinctively leaned down to gently kiss her neck.

And it was as though a jolt of electricity passed from her body straight through his. They both involuntarily froze and Oliver watched a flush creep up her neck to her cheeks. Leaning back, he ran his hands down her back only this time instead of stopping at her hips, he continued down to her knees. He needed to refocus or he wouldn’t finish the massage as it was taught to him.

Placing his thumbs on the inside of her knees, he pressed down firmly and held them there for a full minute before releasing them and working his way back up to her shoulders. He was nearing the end of his resistance with each passing second. Her body was hot to the touch, flushed and soft. To top it all off, she kept making small little moans that were making his blood run hot through his body. No matter how he tried to distract himself, his thoughts kept circling back to the slick, wet heat of her body when he was buried deep inside of her and the way she would moan softly into special, intense kisses just as she was ready to come.

“Oliver,” she said in a husky voice, “The massage part of the evening is over, isn’t it?”  
“I don’t know. You tell me,” he murmured as he circled his hands across the front of her body.  
“I think it might be…,” she said as she shifted her hip just enough to come into contact with his growing erection.  
“Felicity…,” he breathed, unable to sustain a thought process beyond just her name.

Felicity pushed herself up and onto her knees in front of him but before she could turn around, Oliver wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back onto his lap. Her body was relaxed but vibrating. Everywhere he touched her, he could feel her body humming. If her body was a song, then he was feeling it with every pass of his fingertips.

This time when his hands moved over her breasts, he held them and gently massaged her nipples until they were hard between his fingers and she was gasping in pleasure. Bending his body forward, he pressed into her back while at the same time moving both his hands down her small frame.

“Just sit back and relax,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.  
“Oliver, if I let myself get any more relaxed than I already am, I will fall asleep.”  
“I don’t think you will, actually,” he chuckled as he slipped his fingers under the satiny fabric of her panties.

Oliver lightly pressed against her clit and heard her exhale in a long ragged breath. Alternating both pressure and intensity, he kept her hovering at the edge of ecstasy and controlled the pace of her pleasure even as she moved her hips in an effort to increase the intensity of their connection. When he slowly eased two fingers into her and rocked his hand as he pressed her gently forward, he felt her entire body shudder against his.

“Oh God, Oliver,” she gasped, “Please tell you me you didn’t learn this from some old man in the Bratva.”  
“That...is a horrible thought,” he laughed softly, “Now shush.”

Rather than give her a chance to reply, he stepped up the intensity of the tempo of his thrusting fingers until she cried out and her body shuddered and flexed towards the bed and her hips jerked just slightly out of sync with his hand. Planting a kiss between her shoulder blades, Oliver eased his hand away from the hot wet heat of her and sat back on his heels, taking her with him.

“Oliver,” she sighed, “I am very, very happy that we have all night.”  
“So am I,” he with a quiet chuckle, “Now focus.”  
“On what? OH!” she gasped as moved her panties aside and pushed his fingers down the length of her and circled her clit in a fast, pulsing rhythm.

Felicity arched her back and turned her head, searching for his mouth and he obliged. The kiss was greedy, passionate and when she hummed in pleasure, he slowly moved his fingers back inside of her while using the heel of his hand to massage her clit. Felicity moaned into the kiss and started to gently suck his tongue in time to the movement of his fingers. It was almost too much for him but he kept himself under control by causing her to lose hers.

“Oh God...Oliver…,” she gasped as she came again, clenching down hard around his hand, “God, I love you.”

He loved the feel of her body as she pressed herself back into him. Giving her a moment to relax, he ran his hands over her body, cupping her breasts, and then repeating the massage pathway from earlier starting at her shoulders and ending at her knees. She trembled under his touch, a quiet rumble that he could feel down to his bones.

“Lie down,” he whispered in her ear.  
“I like being right where I am,” she sighed, “My thigh feels good, you feel good, I feel good…”  
“Ok,” he said with a low chuckle, “but I am going to take your panties off.”  
“Finally!” she exclaimed causing him to laugh, “I hope your boxer briefs follow my panties on their journey to the floor.”  
“Your’s will be there first but mine will follow almost immediately,” he murmured as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the sexiest pair of satin panties he had ever seen.

He slid them easily down her thighs and gently lifted her legs one at a time to remove them. It felt wrong to drop them on the floor but he had returned one of his hands back between her legs and they slipped through his fingers as she moaned his name.

Reluctantly, he paused to remove his own underwear and watched the firelight flicker over her body. It was fluid and golden and flowed over her in an undulating wave. He knew every slope and plain of her body from watching her when her attention would wander, lost in the world of fractals and chaos. Yet, as she patiently waited for him to rejoin her, he saw something new flash over her face. It was a look of genuine happiness free from the sadness of the past year.

Looking down at her, a smile crossed Oliver’s face as he remembered handing her the bullet ridden lap top, and the blue eyes that looked up, igniting into new found life when he smiled at her. From that moment on he knew that her heart was lost in the sea of his pain and guilt. No matter how many times he had breathed his thanks across her skin, or lost himself in the span of her embrace since his return, he knew that they had both rescued the other from a future filled with emptiness, shadows, and suffocating loneliness.

Before he could rejoin her, the wind outside picked up and a low rumble of thunder raced across the city, she sat back on her feet and waited for him with a serenity he had yet to accept as being only for him. Watching her, in a moment of such naked, unguarded vulnerability, he moved back behind her, wrapping her in his arms.

“It’s getting cool in here,” she murmured as his lips found the soft skin on her neck.  
“We could get under the covers,” he suggested.  
“I’m still kinda oily,” she whispered in a low, husky voice.  
“Mmmm…,” was the last thing he was able to say for a while.

He tenderly traced his desire over her skin with the tip of his tongue, feeling the heat of her body surge as the tempo of her breathing increased. He lost himself to her velvety touch, the way she opened herself to him, trusting he would take care of her. He marveled at the complexity of his love for he and of the honest way she took pleasure from how much he loved her. Oliver would never get tired of how she felt, wrapped around him, pushing him past his ability to remain tethered to this world.

Nights like this needed to become a ritual for them and he breathed his most reverently held desires into the silky expanse of her body while she searched for the remnants of forgiveness on his tortured flesh. Together, they sought to create a touchstone memory that would hold them through whatever was to come.

Using the weight of his body to bend her forward, he nestled his hard cock between her legs, against her warm cleft and tenderly but firmly rubbed his erection through the delicate, silky hot wetness of her. Every fear they shared, every pain she attempted to heal or hide, he had taken and made it his own with a promise to never let those events happen again. Moments like this reminded him of his vow to her. He flowed around her body, molding his body to hers in an effort to not break contact with her skin.

Reaching between them, he pushed into her body, slowly, one inch at a time. He faintly heard her moan in ecstasy as she clung to his arms, trying to open her legs wider against his legs, and slowly rolled his hips so that he was completely sheathed inside her.

The movements he made were small, like tiny pulses, where he withdrew only a fraction of an inch with each motion, and with his legs on the outside of hers the intensity of how tight her body was around him grew and grew. When his long fingers circled around to the front of her hip and began to stroke her clit with a firm pulsing motion, he felt her hips jerk back hard against his and she rode out her orgasm under him until she begged him to stop.

“Oh my God, Oliver,” she moaned, “I just need a minute…”

Chuckling with a low, growl, Oliver kissed her neck and shoulders. When he traced a series of her surgical scars with his fingertips, he felt her shiver. He had some familiarity with what scars of that kind could feel like, even after they were totally healed. Hers possessed a life all their own and they burned hot under his tongue and hands.

Slowly, he pulled out of her and helped her turn over onto her back. Immediately, she pulled him down into a searing kiss. Her tongue was velvety smooth and she tasted like a secret, a powerful one known only to him. He growled low in his throat as he spread her legs apart, slipped between them and laid down on top of her.

She had wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to his body, leaving no space between them. He knew that Felicity was using him to keep herself above the crashing waves of the memories that lived within her. He understood that need but he also understood that she trusted him enough to her safe while she found her footing again. He wanted to watch her as he slowly, seamlessly, glided into her but he was lost to her lips on his neck, her hands roaming over his back, carding through his hair and the sounds she was making, primal and raw, as he slowed the momentum her hips were building.

It was when she rolled her hips and intensified her grip on his shoulders, that he loosened his control over himself and chased his own space of ecstasy. The feel of her hot breath on his chest pushed his conscious mind to the edge of reason, and all he saw were her blue eyes and all he heard was her voice as she softly intoned his name over and over.

He could feel that deep rhythm in her pelvis, it was an undulation, a pulsing of hidden muscles and what he could only describe as love in physical form, as her orgasm took hold of her. Felicity’s back arched off the bed and then the powerful contraction pulled her body forward into a strange stillness. She sought out his mouth as a second climax rolled through her body, shaking them both with its fury.

Oliver, so controlled up until this moment, gave in to the passionate power of her. He didn’t thrust harder, instead he allowed the motions of her body to pull him towards his own climax. He stopped chasing it and let it wash over him. Wrapping his arms around her, feeling her clench down around him, Oliver buried his face into her neck, feeling the soft pulse in her throat, and heard himself groan as he came in one long, shuddering explosion.

He clung to her, feeling their heart beats fall into a gentle rhythm, like they were singing to each other with their bodies. He loved Felicity but more than that, he was in love with her in a way he had never experienced before. The newness of it, the fierceness and strength of it, terrified him but he embraced it, never wanting to let her go.

“I love you, Felicity,” he whispered into her ear.  
“I love you, too, Oliver.”  
“Are we leaving early tomorrow?”  
“Early enough to warrant going to sleep now,” she smiled.  
“Packed?”  
“Almost and yes, I saw your bag by the door,” she said rolling her eyes.  
“I pack light,” he said softly, “I only really need one thing.”  
“Your running shoes? No! I know! Your quiver!”  
“I was going to say Gameboy but…,” he teased.  
“Oh good! I am going to be bringing my tablet and-” Felicity began to tease back but Oliver cut her off with a kiss meant to capture her lips and words but ended up something gentle and soft. He felt a fluttering in his belly and wished he wasn’t completely spent.

Carefully, Oliver rolled them both over onto their sides. His cock twitched and continued to soften inside her but he remained where he was, connected to her body. Tenderly, he stroked her hair and felt sleep stalking him.

They had just enough energy to use the towel to clean themselves up and then they slipped between the sheets. Oliver pulled her to him and sank beneath the surface of consciousness. He was sure he heard her sigh in contentment as her body relaxed in his arms. If tonight was any indication, the weekend would be bliss.

 

II

_It was the screaming that sparked him to join his dream. It was raw, wild, primal and full of rage and pain. As abruptly as it began, it ended. No trailing off, it was silenced so completely that for a moment, Oliver could hear nothing at all._

_Then a soft metallic sound reached his ears. It was a long way off but it was consistent and allowed him to orientate himself and figure out where he was and what was happening around him. All he could see so far was that he was in the mansion he was raised in, sitting in the hallway outside of his old room._

_Whatever, whoever, was behind that door was something fierce and terrifying. He was frozen to the spot and on the edge of hyperventilating. He hadn’t felt fear like this since the first night alone on Lian Yu. It was rooted in his bones and no matter how much time went by, there were still moments when he felt that hopeless fear._

_When Felicity almost died that night in the limo, he felt the resurgence of that wild fear. It had almost bubbled out of him but he turned it into rage and hunted Darhk’s men throughout the city. He had been willing to slaughter his entire army to find him but she had needed him more. Even in her hospital bed, connected to every kind of machine imaginable, she had been able to pull his scattered self back into his body and centre once again._

_Getting up on shaking legs, he took a halting step towards the closed door but couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He could hear a feral growling leaking out from around the edges of the door frame, reaching out to pull him through the door cell by cell._

_Turning away from it, Oliver headed down one of the cavernous hallways but he could feel the fear that leaked out, oily and strangely gelatinous, and it was working its way into his mind. He rounded a corner, expecting to find the stairs to the kitchen, but was right where started._

_The world turned upside down and Oliver collapsed to the ground. He was determined to not get up and just wait the dream out. Felicity had set the alarm on her phone, so he would just wait until the sound of it filtered down to him._

_Somehow, between the slow blinking of his eyes, someone had stepped in front of him. The boots in front of him were well worn and embossed with an intricate pattern that once, long ago, had maybe been a midnight blue or green._

_“Oliver, I do believe you can sit up,” said Morpheus in an amused tone._   
_“I’d rather stay where I am.”_

_Rather than fight him, Morpheus joined him by sitting cross legged and leaning against the wall opposite the door. They remained that way, Oliver laying on the floor and Morpheus reclining on against the wall, for several minutes. They would have stayed that way had the doorknob on the door opposite them rattled as though someone were trying to open it from inside the room._

_“Morpheus,” Oliver began as he pushed himself up to sitting position next to his dream companion, “is this one of the rooms I have yet to open in my mind?”_   
_“Yes, Oliver, it is. Not the worst of them, but most assuredly it is one of them.”_   
_“How long until what’s inside escapes?”_   
_“That is entirely up to you, Oliver.”_

_Oliver sat and studied the door for a few minutes. He could leave it close and slowly forget it existed, which he was not opposed to. Or, he could be brave and open it. Letting loose whatever was inside was a terrifying prospect and he worried that he would physically react in the waking world in a violent way._

_“I can’t,” he said sadly, “Not when Felicity is with me. I’ve...I’ve reacted badly to memories that resurface outside of my control.”_   
_“But you would be in control here, Oliver,” Morpheus explained, “and if help should be needed, I am here for that as what is hidden is powerful knowledge you may require...assistance with.”_   
_“Meaning, I’ve locked away something horrible.”_   
_“Correct.”_

_Oliver sighed. If it was what he thought it might be, he had locked it away for a reason but given that it was awake and prowling, maybe it was time to face it once and for all. He was unable to do it while he was awake because it what he was trying to move away from was the habit of diving deep into the well of self hatred and remorse he had found his way out of through five long years of fighting and the seemingly infinite love of the woman sleeping next to him._

_Standing up, Oliver watched Morpheus remain in his cross legged position but float up off the ground so that he was the same height as Oliver. It was disconcerting but not surprising. Morpheus may well hold the power of a God in the dream world of the Universe, so levitation would be a simple thing for him to do._

_“So all I do is open the door…,” Oliver hesitated as he stepped towards the door._   
_“And look inside.”_   
_“Will Felicity be safe from anything I might do?”_   
_“That is up to you.”_

_Oliver didn’t feel confident but knew he needed to be courageous. He’d lived under the shadow of his nightmares for far too long. Taking a deep breath, he reached out towards the doorknob and hoped that he making the right decision. If he was wrong, he would need to wake up immediately._

_And so he opened the door, half expecting a legion of flying monkeys come screaming out at him but instead he was greeted with a soft, fetid smell, like the forest floor after a heavy rain. The room was dark and from the rustling he could hear, something was alive and moving somewhere deep in the shadows._

_Oliver’s mouth went dry and his body broke out into a cold, clammy sweat. He could hear the beginnings of words, echoes of memories best left dead, and wanted to run back to the warm bedroom and safety of Felicity’s embrace but a firm hand on his back kept him rooted to the spot._

_“I...I can’t…,” Oliver said, locked in fear._   
_“Yes, Oliver, I think you can.”_

_Clenching his fists, Oliver stepped into the room he grew up in and waited. What unfolded before him was something he had thought he had buried out of reach of even the most violent of nightmares. He watched as the men of the Bratva prepared him for his last and final beating. He either submitted or he died. There was no in between, no pretending. If he was to become Bratva and live to see his family again, he had one last trial to beat._

_He had taken their fists, kicks and body slams but it was when they set him on fire that he felt sure he was going to die. It was pain like he had never felt before or since. Yet, he hadn’t uttered a sound, not then. To scream or cry out would have meant a bullet to the head and burial at sea. No, instead he had gritted his teeth and waited._

_When Anatoli saw that he wasn’t going to break, he personally doused him in water to put out the flames that encircled him. It was only when they stripped him down and peeled the clothing from the burned flesh that he was given permission to react and even then all he did was pass out._

_He had almost died because of those burns. The scarring wouldn’t have been as bad as it was if not for the infection that chewed through him, leaving him unconscious and defenseless for close to a month. If not for Anatoli, they would have left him for dead but he received antibiotics and proper care until he was well enough to stand._

_The screaming wasn’t his, he remembered that much. The screaming was from the man who tried to kill him after he was well enough to rejoin the Bratva. Oliver had flayed him alive deep in the forest of the Western Siberia taiga. It was the last step in his initiation and so, he had locked away what was left of his soul and peeled away the skin from a man’s body, one thin strip at a time._

_He didn’t know when the man died. Oliver heard his screams for hours. The other men had laughed and joked about how Oliver had peeled a corpse, not stopping until the only skin left on the man was the skin under the ropes that bound his wrists over his head. Instead of burying the remains, Oliver had ordered them to leave the body where it hung. Nature would take care of the rest._

_“You had to learn quickly how to survive, didn’t you, Oliver?”_   
_“Yes,” he managed to choke out. He felt bile rising in his throat and quickly turned away from the scene in front of him, “I can never share this with anyone. It’s why I buried it so deep.”_   
_“Something is drawing it out of you, like a poison,” Morpheus mused._   
_“I need to wake up,” Oliver panted as he gulped for air._

_He felt like he was drowning and suffocating all at once. He stretched his neck up, trying to relieve the sensation of strangling, as he sought air. He didn’t need or want to remember. So far as he was concerned, the Siberian forest was a lifetime ago, belonging to another man. He wasn’t that man, not anymore, nor could he ever become him again._

_He could feel Morpheus watching him but he avoided his eyes and stared out into the hall, wishing he could leave but for whatever reason, he was unable to wake up._

_“It is still too early for you to wake up,” Morpheus explained, “but when you do, try to remember what you saw.”_   
_“Why? I’ve spent every moment since it happened trying to forget.”_   
_“There is a reason you need to clear this particular room in your mind.”_   
_“I could hear his screams for months…”_   
_“His screams are still with you.”_

_Oliver said nothing. He continued to stare out at the darkened hallway, searching for a glimmer of light from the windows he knew were there overlooking the backyard of his parent’s home. He only missed the house in his dreams, otherwise, he grown used to living simply. For months all he had needed was to be with Felicity, now all he needed was to know she was willing to be with him._

_Still, all he needed now was to wake up._

_It was when he hung his head and closed his eyes that felt the cool touch of an ancient hand on the back of his neck and he fell through the layers of his dream until nothing registered and all he was aware of was an all encompassing darkness rising to meet him._

 

III

There were mornings when he re-entered the world softly, with barely even a sigh. His eyes would open and the day would begin. Just as simple as that. He wouldn’t feel the pangs of regret or fear or guilt, instead, he would feel a kind of calm that would see him through the worst of whatever the day could, and often would, throw at him.

Then there were times when he would fall into the day feet first, slamming into his body, shocking him awake. When he awoke from the nightmare, he awoke quickly and with a start, his eyes instantly in focus and his heart hammering in his chest. Oliver wasn’t sure he hadn’t made a sound in his sleep, but Felicity was motionless beside him, breathing deep and steady in the warm bedroom.

The wind had picked up and was lashing the hotel, as an early winter storm was kicking up outside threatening to bring the first snowfall of the season, and the sun was still hours away from rising. He wasn’t sure when he would be able to fall asleep again, so he carefully untangled himself from the sheets and Felicity and got out of bed.

Picking up his sweats on the way out of the room, he stopped to listen to look at Felicity. She was radiantly lit by the firelight and the sight of her took his breath away. She was still deeply asleep and would hopefully stay that way until morning. His dreams chased him out of bed but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about what he had remembered. It was a memory he would never say out loud, not to Morpheus, not to Diggle, and most certainly not to Felicity.

The fire in the living room was warm and inviting. Grabbing a knit blanket, Oliver crossed over to the couch and sat down, suddenly weary but not yet ready to try and find his way back to sleep. He hadn’t had a nightmare like that in a long time and for that long buried memory to suddenly resurface gave him cause for concern. He had other, darker secrets that he had locked away and was suddenly fearful they would howl to life.

He opted to sit back, stare at the ceiling and let the warmth of the fire soak into him instead of returning to the warm bed and Felicity. Being part of the Bratva had been a conscious choice on his part but he wondered, on more than just dark and stormy nights, if perhaps he had used the organization as a means to an end. After being away from his family for so long, he lost sight of who he was and somewhere along the way, made the choice to forget just who that person was for good. The Bratva was a kill or be killed organization and his desire to die back then had been an intense need but he just hadn’t been able to pull the trigger himself. If he had failed in his mission, death would have been his reward and he would have welcomed it.

As his eyes slid closed, he thought about all the ways he had stepped in front of death and all the times death had stepped around him. Now, he was thankful that he was alive and that was all because of Felicity and her steadfast belief that he would believe in himself.

“Oliver?” she called softly from what seemed like a million miles away.  
“Hmmm?”  
“Are you ok?”  
“Of course,” he answered, opening his eyes, “I had a dream that woke me up and I couldn’t fall back to sleep is all.”  
“Want to talk about it?”

Oliver shook his head, unable to say anything. Instead, he held his hand out and invited her to join him on the couch. He watched a small smile cross her face but her saw that her eyes were serious. He knew she wouldn’t ask now, and he loved her for that thoughtfulness more than she would ever truly know, but he knew she would ask in the future.

When she crossed into the light of the fire, he saw she was wearing one of his Henleys and he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. It hung halfway down her thighs, dwarfing her small frame, and it would never look as good on him as it did on her.

“Don’t you want to come back to bed?” she asked after stifling a yawn, “It is only 2 am. We have hours to go before dawn.”  
“You set your alarm for DAWN?!?” he exclaimed.  
“It’s a figure of speech!” she laughed.  
“But still...don’t give a guy a heart attack like that!”  
“Shush. Just keep me warm,” she needled as she slipped her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.  
“You know, we could just stay in here all weekend,” he suggested.  
“We could but I’d rather go to the place I found.”  
“Still no clue?”  
“Nope!”

They drifted into a sleepy silence. Oliver gently trailed his fingertips up and down her back. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it until she shifted next to him and tenderly kissed his chest just above his Bratva tattoo. It was so soft and purposeful, he almost moaned in ecstasy.

When he felt her hand slip under the waistband of his sweats, he felt the air rush out of his lungs. She only had to touch him for his cock to twitch alive and start to harden. He was tired but he felt a powerful need to connect to her body, heart and soul again. When she firmly stroked him completely hard, waking up the fire in his pelvis, he felt all his resistance fade away.

“Are you sure we won’t wear each other out?” he teased in a low voice.  
“I think we’ll be fine,” she murmured as she straddled his hips, keeping the blanket wrapped around them.  
“When is the alarm set for?” he asked, looking up into her eyes. They had darkened to the colour of the sky at twilight, velvet and dense, and even if he had wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to look away.  
“Later than you think,” she smiled.

Oliver slipped his sweatpants down past his hips as she lowered her lips to his. It was like she was testing the waters, tasting him to see just what his level of desire was. He moaned into her as she parted his lips with her tongue and sank into him. Desire was one thing, but with the softest of touches she could bring him to his knees.

She ground her hips up and down his hard length and he gasped at the sensation. Felicity reached down and guided him inside her and, with a few not so slow movement of her hips, set a pounding rhythm. Earlier had been all about reconnecting, now it was naked desire and need. He ran his hands up under her shirt, cupping her breasts and felt how her nipples hardened under his fingertips.

“Oh God,” she breathed, gripping his shoulders, “Hurry.”

Oliver felt the nightmare fall away as he gripped her hips and encouraged her to move faster. He could feel the uncoiling in his pelvis and smiled into her kiss. There were some nights where they sought each other out every few hours, the well of desire they shared seemingly bottomless, and the sex was hot and fast. And this was just that, pure desire and passion, and it was exactly what he needed.

“Oliver…,” she whispered in his ear, “God, I love you.”

Then he felt her thighs start to quiver and her hips slammed down onto his as she arched her back. Her orgasm was hot, violent and it ripped through her body, triggering his own. He met her thrust for thrust, distantly aware of her crying out again, as his cock throbbed deep inside her body. He could feel her breath, hot and fast, on his neck and his mind went blank.

He loved this moment, this powerful and unguarded moment, when his hips would slow to a stop for just a split second and then he would explode in a hot rush. His mind felt blown apart, every cell bathed in ecstasy, and he clung to her, trembling as he pulled himself back to the present reality.

“God, Felicity,” he gasped, “I think you need to wear my shirts all the time.”  
“Is that what happened here?” she sighed, “I see you shirtless, a very good look for you by the way, and you saw me in your shirt but bottomless-”  
“A very good look for you by the way.”  
“...and this had to happen?”  
“I just need to see you but feeling me up under my sweats was a definite plus.”

She chuckled quietly, her head resting on his shoulder. He could feel her tracing his arrowhead brand from the League on his back, something she did absentmindedly as she relaxed. Wrapping the blanket back up around them, Oliver rested his head on top of hers and sighed in contentment.

“Oliver, I’m sleepy,” she yawned.  
“Bathroom?”  
“Yes, thank God you have a bidet!”

He laughed at her obvious love of the masterbath. He loved the tub, she loved the bidet. It saved them from having to take a shower but he missed the small ritual they had of each washing the other. It was intimate, loving and felt woven to the act of love and sex that they shared.

“Tomorrow, we’ll do it differently tomorrow,” she said as though reading his mind.  
“We should institute a no touching rule until after we have dinner tomorrow,” he suggested.  
“Ok, but noon is a really strange time to have dinner.”  
“You are insatiable, Smoak,” he laughed.

Pulling back to look him in the eyes, he briefly felt as if she were looking straight through him, but she smiled her secret smile and pushed herself up to standing.

“I don’t know about you, but sex on the couch like that is strangely really hot.”  
“Nothing strange about it,” he said as he got up, pulling his sweats back up as he did, “it is sexy as hell when you do that.”  
“Take over?”  
“God, yes. I mean there is sexy and then there is SEXY.”  
“Ok, ok,” she laughed, “I get it! Sex with me on top is a priority.”  
“You literally have no idea,” he muttered.  
“Next time, we’ll go slower,” she promised softly.  
“Anything you want,” he said with heat and love wrapped around every word.  
“Come on, let’s go clean up and get into bed,” she whispered.

Oliver leaned done, gave her a kiss and lead her to the master bath and then to bed. Morning was still far away and sleep came quickly to them both. Oliver’s last waking thought was to hope the alarm would not be ringing too soon.


	8. Day Three: Emergence Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is just a quick peak into the world of Dream and Death as they watch from their realm into the human mind. 
> 
> In fact, they ARE in a human mind. Oliver's to be exact, but way off to the side so he doesn't know they are there.
> 
> It is another layer of the mystery falling away of what is to come. heheheheh

**Day Three: Emergence Part Three**

_Morpheus sat patiently, high up within his realm and scattered his grains of sand into the endless stream of consciousness that ran across it. Dreams and nightmares floated freely on the cosmic currents and dispersed across the universe. All manner of creature sought out the peace and calm of deep sleep but they also needed to dream. He couldn’t decide what they dreamed about but he was certain that yes, they would most certainly dream._

_One person, in all the cosmos, had sparked his curiosity. When he saw that this person was sharing dreams with another, as well as with beings of such power that he had no choice but to sit passively by while the messages were conveyed in a form that the human beings could understand, he had to know more. This was not something that could happen without his knowledge and permission and yet it had happened. On three separate occasions._

_So he had watched for the dreams unfold, monitoring when necessary, leaving the man to his privacy at other times, and was genuinely surprised at the depth of universal knowledge both the man and woman had both been given and shared. They had found themselves in a universal current in the American Southwest, they had bathed in the stream of knowledge and dove back to earth whole._

_Morpheus knew immortals who went insane in the river of time and knowledge. They would drink the waters and their minds would burn and burn. Yet here were two mortals, connected on a level so deep that neither of them had yet to truly understand it, that had swum together and sailed over the waterfall of life._

_Their stories were part of the Universe now, just as the Universe was part of them and yet still they held secrets deep within their minds, locked in rooms so buried they had forgotten their way there. Morpheus was curious as to what was behind those doors so when cracks started to appear in the inner architecture of the man’s mind, he had peeked in and made the decision to join him in his sleep._

_“Brother!”_   
_Without glancing up, Morpheus said, “Sister. You are making a habit of joining me.”_   
_“Well, you are watching the other half of my little obsession.”_   
_“Is that what the woman is to you, Sister? An obsession?” he asked. His attention was now focused on Death as she sat down next to him. Well, not sitting exactly. She floated next to him, mostly haphazardly as she didn’t care for it._

_Death was silent for a moment, her head cocked to side as she thought. Morpheus always enjoyed it when she came to visit but this particular time was proving to be disruptive to his plans. The room the man had found held someone who was screaming in agony. The kind of wail he associated with torture and approaching death._

_“I can hear the wailing, too,” she said softly._   
_“He holds many secrets deep within his mind.”_   
_“You’re going to unlock that one, aren’t you?”_   
_“He sees himself as a version of you, if that evil we saw is to be defeated, he needs to see himself as...not you.”_   
_“It will be painful for him,” she cautioned, “so don’t be cruel. I like him.”_   
_“And what of you, Sister? What about the woman?”_   
_“Oh Felicity is delightful!” she exclaimed._   
_“I know, but what about her?” he asked pointedly._   
_“It is going to take time. She sees herself as a monster, too, but I need to walk her through the way she actually was me that day.”_   
_“She will need him after that, which is why he needs to open the door to that room.”_   
_“Brother...did they REALLY meet Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka?”_   
_“They did. I was...surprised.”_   
_“He hasn’t shown himself like that to anyone for years.”_   
_“Hundreds of them.”_   
_“That man who is wailing...he still wails.”_

_Morpheus was surprised. His sister rarely ever spoke of souls she had helped pass over to the rest of their existence. Once they were no longer alive in their physical forms, they ceased to be for him. They winked out of existence like a candle being snuffed out. He would occasionally watch the skies that separated their realms, when he remembered to, and watch the tiny pinpoints flash into view as some were born and others as they faded from sight as some would die._

_“Have you any desire to ease his suffering?”_   
_“Not at the moment. He is guilty of far worse than what Oliver did to him. He was a monster.”_

_Morpheus looked at his sister and saw the serious way she was studying her boots. He knew when she was avoiding looking at him. They had never been children but they had been young and he recognized her youthful habit of avoiding his gaze._

_“It would seem we have found a wellspring of evil in this city,” he mused._   
_“We have. They need to release some of their pain and sorrow in order to fight it.”_   
_“Can it be fought?”_   
_“I don’t know. Should we talk to Destiny?” she asked as she chewed a nail._   
_“I don’t think so. He is…”_   
_“Unpleasant?”_   
_“Careful, Sister,” he said with a small smile, “You know how he feels about comments on his personality.”_   
_“If he HAD one to comment on, I would gladly do so,” she said as she theatrically rolled her eyes._   
_“Sister, I need to attend to Oliver. I do believe he is in a fetal position on the floor on his dream.”_   
_“Be gentle with him, Brother. That room...I know what’s in that room.”_   
_“I will take heed of your advice,” he said with the weight of seriousness in every word._

_Death nodded and suddenly graced him with a smile that seemed to burst to life and leap out of her. She occasionally was the most human of all the Endless even though her singular purpose was to assist the living through the veil into her realm. It was why she was the only of of his siblings whose company he sought, appreciated and enjoyed._

_“Morpheus, there are times when I think only you and I are related,” she laughed as though reading his mind. She gave him a tight hug and was gone._

_He found it disturbing how she could just slip out of sight while he watched. Often she timed it when he wasn’t blinking just to laugh at his expression the next time she reappeared. He was also profoundly grateful at how she knew when to stay and when to go._

_Turning his attention back to Oliver, he watched him try to run from the room only to circle back to it time and time again before sinking to the ground in despair. Morpheus found it curious that Oliver was terrified of his own secrets. He could confront his past in reality but asleep, he would run._

_Tonight would be difficult for him and he would have to repeat it over and over until he was able to walk into the centre of the nightmare and vanquish it. Tonight would not be that night but it would be a start._

_Later, after Oliver had left and returned to the land of the living, Morpheus stood in the centre of Oliver’s locked away memory turned nightmare and studied the flayed man in the trees. He listened to the blood drip off of his feet and hit the ground below. He could smell the man’s fear as it mixed with the coppery scent of his blood and floated on the heavy, dew filled air._

_But the thing that chilled him to the centre of his being was the shrill, unending screaming wail of a man who had every nerve ending exposed and sections of muscle literally carved away from bone. The man most likely died long before Oliver had gotten halfway through his task but his wail of terror and pain was alive inside his mind._

_And Morpheus knew that the man’s wail had to end in order for Oliver to begin the real process of living. With the evil that was lurking in the cracks and crevices of their city, Oliver and Felicity both needed to dive into their nightmares in order to find the way to save themselves and those they loved._


	9. Day Three: Getaway Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this got long. It is an extremely reflective chapter, told from Felicity's POV and it takes place over the course of a morning and afternoon. Death comes for a visit while she dreams and helps her along the inner journey she is on, while Oliver proves to be her equal in a surprising way we haven't seen in quite some time.
> 
> Never fear, the end gets hella sexy and also introduces the beginning of the conflict that threatens to divide them. Things are going to get...difficult. Soon. #sorrynotsorry
> 
> I love Felicity's POV here. There is a gentleness to her but she isn't healed, not yet, so she has her own rough edges and will be challenging Oliver with them.
> 
> I've included an image of Death, from the Sandman comics as this is who I am writing about and who the character is, so folks can see what she looks like. Goth Felicity was based on her but I wanted everyone to see the original, whom I adore.

**Day Three: Getaway Part Two**

_Lost in an avalanche_   
_Of sorrowful regret_   
_She smiles._

 

I

  
The dinner they shared had been amazing. The hotel’s restaurant was world famous for a reason and she was secretly glad that Oliver was still living there because she loved the food. When they were done, she had teased him until he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. His physical strength never failed to impress her even if she hated being picked up as a rule since she regained the use of her legs.

Being in his arms was actually fortuitous because when her feet hit the ground, the pain of nerves misfiring and registering pressure as white hot agony almost knocked her unconscious. She saw white spots flashing in and out of her vision and momentarily she slipped sideways out of consciousness where she saw everything through a fog of pain.

When she resurfaced it was to the tenderness of how Oliver was cradling her. But it was the way he was so silent that almost broke her. While the white hot pain shot through her body, she focused on the way he sheltered her, how his arms felt wrapped around her, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and the sound of his heartbeat. By focusing on him, by rising up to embrace him, she left the pain in her body behind. Unattended and ignored, it dissipated and quieted down to a dull roar.

When she could stand and walk, Oliver undressed her. Every part of her body came alive as he so diligently and seductively stripped her down to her panties. They were new, dark green and satin. She opted not to wear the matching bra under her form fitting tank top and hid her smile when she saw what kind of effect her fashion choices were having on him.

The massage was not what she had been expecting at all. It was intimate and sexy but without crossing the line into something other than what he had intended it to be: healing. It loosened her tight thigh muscle to the point where she felt like she did before she was shot. Her body relaxed even further and a tingling began just beneath the surface of her skin. It spread outward from the base of her spine until her entire body was engulfed in what she could only think to describe as an effervescent bath. Just as quickly as it began, it ended, it flowed out of her fingertips and toes and was gone.

Felicity fought the drowsiness and instead pulled her conscious mind back to her body and the way Oliver was now touching her. There had been a subtle shift in the attentiveness of his probing hands and fingers. What had brought healing and serenity was now waking up the desire in her body as the massage had moved past intimate and into seductive territory. His hands suddenly felt hot against her skin and when he kissed her back, she froze. His lips branded her. They left a mark on her heart and soul. They breathed life into her mind and she felt overcome with love and desire. That complex cocktail of emotions that fueled their relationship at its quietest level.

Earlier in the shower, he had used his hands and fingers to propel her into an ecstasy infused space. If her body was a song, he was playing it’s melody with his hands. Their bodies spoke a language only the other could understand. She felt herself humming softly with each pass of his hands over her back. He would pause every few inches, paying homage to her scars with his fingertips and it would send shockwaves through her body. The ghosts in her head went silent as he reminded her of how deeply he loved her.

He was doing the same thing now as he pulled her back into a seated position on his lap. The intimacy of the moment, as he encircled her with his arms created a symphony of emotions, a whirlwind of life and love and memories. She was overwhelmed by the idea that they maybe could succeed and build a life together that would last forever. Yet at the same time, part of her felt detached and she watched from outside her body for just a moment and saw something she wasn’t expecting.

Felicity watched herself spiral away from Oliver on a subconscious level. She wasn’t pushing herself away from him, instead she could see the damage of Havenrock written all over the way she refused to look too closely in the mirror and the way she buried herself in work, their work. She wasn’t letting him any closer, but she wasn’t letting him drift away either. It was like they were caught in an eddie, swirling around each other, just out of arm’s reach but unwilling to let the other drown.

The thought of losing him to her inability to allow let go of her grief and shame haunted her. Havenrock was a shadow that dimmed the glow of the light he brought into her life and she was terrified of waking up one morning to an empty world. But on nights like this, where he was so attentive and focused on her, she felt the pull of his heart and her body followed his lead.

Oliver coaxed her, pushed her, stroked her through a series of mind expanding orgasms. He did it so effortlessly, that she was able to float free in her mind. A sudden swelling of emotion in her chest almost caught her unaware as his hands blazed new trails of passion across her body. He thought her sudden hitch of breath and small cry was her asking for a break, a chance to catch her breath and let her body and mind reclaim a small patch of calm when it was really a tiny release of the grief she held in her heart. The grief that was preventing her from fully committing to Oliver in the moment.

When he used his body to bend her forward as he guided himself into her with one satiny push, every nerve cell in her body flared into life. It was never possible to go on automatic pilot with him. He knew her body but he always found some way to show her a new way through the map of pleasure and ecstasy they were creating. With his hand against her clit and his careful, slow thrusts coming from behind her, it was like a bomb going off in her body.

She came hot and fast. She felt frantic, like she needed to grab onto him, hold onto him with all the strength that she had because she knew, despite the joy she felt in that moment, something deep within her was fundamentally broken. It was bigger than Havenrock, more complex than her relationship with Oliver and all the ups and downs they had shared. It was all of that, it was her father’s betrayals and abandonment. It was a wound so raw, a memory so vicious, that she had closed the door on it and walked away. His strength never made her feel less strong, instead it propelled her to be as strong as she possibly could be and she would need to draw on it if she were to reclaim herself from the grips of despair.

From a distance, she watched Oliver help her turn over onto her back and she saw the look in his eyes. Those blue eyes, the colour of a midsummer sky at noon, that masked years of pain and a mind so complex and strong it humbled her. She would tease him and call them his lover’s eyes and he would groan in mock annoyance but she could feel his smile all the way through it. She felt laid bare underneath him, like her secrets were about to be ripped from her mind for him to see. The intensity of how he was now moving in her body, slow and controlled, stretched her mind taut, like a violin string tightened to almost snapping, and she gratefully floated free.

It didn’t take long for her to feel the thundering power of another orgasm race through her body. She held onto OIiver, clinging to him for fear he would fall out of her orbit, and when she was certain that he was anchored to her, let herself relax under him just enough to allow the uncoiling low in her pelvis to start all over again. For just a moment, she stopped breathing and just held onto him, tapping into his strength and the power of his body.

When she started to breathe again, deep into her diaphragm, it set off an avalanche within her. This time, her bones shook and a loud roaring began in her ears as her back arched off the bed, pushing her body against his into a tighter embrace. Oliver sought her lips and she was greedy with the kiss, pulling his tongue into her mouth, sucking on his bottom lip to the rhythm of his pulsing thrusts.

Oliver trusted her with his body and so she used her own to pull him towards ecstasy. It was like a dance between their hearts, bodies and minds and all she had to do was show him the way and movements. When he finally came, she felt it in every part of her body and a surge of love in her chest tried to free itself from her as though it were a real, breathing, living thing in response.

Felicity returned to her body, slipped past her mourning and grief, and settled firmly under him and in his arms. For just a little while, she was able to keep her head above the surface of the ashes of the dead in her mind. His love was kind, patient, and held weight and form for Felicity, who for the first time in her life felt the seeds of belonging beginning to take root.

Sleep found her as soon as they slipped between the cool covers. The fireplace was throwing off enough heat to warm the room, as the weather took a turn signalling an incoming winter squall, and she gratefully sank into the fog of slumber as her exhaustion took over. The physical pain of the last few hours had taken more of a toll than she realized until the moment she closed her eyes.

The first few hours of the night were mercifully dreamless. She awoke with a small start and immediately reached out for Oliver only to find him no longer beside her. For a moment, she was confused as to what bed she was in until she felt the softness of her skin and the light fragrance still clinging to it from the massage earlier. Oliver’s side of the bed was cold, so he had been gone for a while.

Sitting up, she squinted through the fire place’s flames and saw him reclining on the couch in the living room. The only time he left a shared bed was if he had a nightmare or night panic. Concerned, she got up and slipped one of his Henley’s over her head. It came down to her knees but it was warm, smelled like him, and made her feel safe as the wind whistled past cracks in the seams of the window frame behind her.

Standing silently in the doorway that separated the bedroom from the living room, she watched Oliver as he slept. She took in the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the way the evidence of his time in hell vanished from his face. He was beautiful to her, awake or asleep and looking at him so peaceful and achingly alive caused a fluttering in her stomach.

The thought of him, his hands, mouth and body caused a flush to spread over her body. Her skin tingled and before she could stop herself, she was calling out to him, waking him up from his peaceful sleep. Whatever it was that had pushed him out of bed was serious enough that he was holding it close, shielding her from it as though she had not seen her way through the terror of her own experiences.

In the quiet of the living room, she listened to his heartbeat, strong and sure, under her ear. On an impulse, she kissed his chest just above the Bratva tattoo he had yet to really tell her how he got. It was meant to be a simple, gentle kiss of affection but the moment her lips touched his skin, her blood ran hot and she knew their night was far from over.

The fear of pain and horror were worth overcoming in order to love him, she thought as she straddled his hips, if only for the soft, tender moments when he yielded to her and her desire. If she could give him one last gift, it would be her devotion born from this moment.

There was a quiet desperation in the feverish way his hands roamed her body, showing her the way back to where he was, waiting for her heart to find all the pieces it had lost in the preceding months. Felicity felt the frantic heat of his desire and met it with her own, reaching her release only seconds before he found his own.

Sometimes the need to reconnect after only a few hours was an imperative for her. Especially now when she felt routinely numb when his skin wasn’t next to hers. Exhaustion swept over her once again and if not for his helping her to the washroom, she would have curled up on the couch next to him and slept until morning.

How could she tell him that there were times where she felt such numbness that the only way she could find her way back to him was through the ecstasy his love brought her? How, she wondered, could she find her way above the surface of her guilt? She no longer blamed herself for the decision but she did for the result. All those lost souls howled in her mind, shutting her down one piece at a time no matter how hard she smile or pushed the horror away. But she would need to tell him before it was too late to reconnect to her own soul and that day would have to come soon but...

_Not yet, she thought as she crawled back under the covers._   
_Not yet, she sighed as she curled her body around his._   
_Not yet, she yawned as sleep pulled incessantly at her, but when?_

Without having an opportunity to search out an answer, Felicity fell headlong into darkness. The weekend was set to begin and the alarm was set to go off in six hours. She was nervous for the time alone with Oliver, it felt almost decadent to be leaving town with him but the anticipation was keeping her inner dialogue quiet. Oliver had earned this tiny offering and it was her pleasure to give it to him.

 

II

_She heard the wind first. It was heavy, gusting to a howl, and full of a righteous fury that only a hurricane can bring. Felicity didn’t want to open her eyes. She wanted to remain asleep, deep within her mind, and rest to be ready for the morning and the short trip with Oliver to the cabin she had found. It wasn’t far, just in case, but she didn’t want to be tired when he was so looking forward to it._

_Distantly, she heard the first splattering of rain hitting the hotel windows and was grateful for the fire that was keeping the room warm around them. Reaching towards the opposite side of the bed, Felicity sought the comfort of Oliver’s warm body. Her fingers encountered only an empty bed._

_Not again, she inwardly groaned, he better just be getting something to drink._

_Listening carefully, Felicity heard only silence. The kind of silence that occurs when there is no one else in the room. All she could hear was her own, calm breathing and the muted call of the wind. It dawned on her, from behind her closed eyes, that she was no longer in Oliver’s hotel suite. The sound of the rain was bouncing off of the reflecting surfaces of the chrome and polished wood with familiar cold tones that fell just slightly out of tune._

_Opening her eyes, Felicity saw she was in her loft bedroom. The fireplace on the main level was casting sepia toned shadows that licked up the walls and shifted her vision just enough that was sure she saw the shadows of tree limbs dancing on her walls. It was still late, based on depth of darkness outside, and she had very little desire to get up but she felt compelled to finally enter her dream._

_Sitting up, she wasn’t surprised when the walls around her fell away and she entered a dark, fetid smelling woods. The sunlight streaming down through the trees filtered through a soft mist that clung to their leaves and branches. She could feel mist settle on her skin and breathed deep the scent of the forest. It reminded her of the area she and Oliver would be spending the next three days. It was quiet, ethereal and full of promise._

_Spotting an overgrown path, Felicity began to walk down it, through overgrown ferns and over fallen trees now covered in thick layers of moss. She half expected a fairy to come buzzing out from the depths of the woods that surrounded her. With a wry smile, she contemplated trying to tell Oliver about a dream full of woodland creatures and talking butterflies._

_Slowly, the mist gave way to the persistent heat of the sun and she was able to see that the path was leading out of the forest. She slowed her pace and spent a moment to look around at the cathedral of trees that surrounded her. Under the interlocking boughs, so high over head, she felt tiny, inconsequential, but part of the fabric of her own reality. She felt at peace and hoped with a smile, before the sorrow took hold once more, that she could find this same wholeness in her waking world._

_A wind kicked up at the edge of the woods. It smelled dry and metallic but not like the winds that screamed and howled from the crater in Havenrock. No, this smelled familiar in a way that immediately brought to mind her childhood in Las Vegas with her mother. In those long, lonely days after her mother left her father and she had to work at the casinos on the Strip for fifty or sixty hours a week._

_She would roam the neighbourhood after school, delaying going home to the empty apartment for as long as humanly possible. But the desert heat would sear her skin, leaching her dry until she was certain she resembled a lizard, sunning itself on a playground swing. In her effort to avoid the bullies and mean girls, she discovered a small park that had cottonwood trees and lethal looking cacti in a bizarre mix that somehow seemed to work. There was shade but also a sense that you were somewhere otherworldly._

_It was there that she would bring her water bottle, a small snack and her books on cyber security. She was fascinated by the movement of codes. They sang to her. She saw order in the chaos and beauty in the fractures of strings of letters and numbers where she could slip in unseen, rewrite the message and deliver something completely new._

_A long time ago, she had closed the door on this part of her life. There was an underlying pain to these memories that struck at the core of her identity and being. The wound at the centre hadn’t yet begun to heal, crippling a part of her that she had once relied on to see her through the darkest days and longest nights._

_When Oliver had gone to fight Ra’s on top of the mountain near Nanda Parbat and had been mortally wounded, yet lived thanks to Tatsu’s skill and ability as a healer, that wound had screamed into life and brought her to her knees. There were days she could scarcely breathe as the weight of his loss settled on her bones._

_Because oh, how she loved him._

_Felicity wanted to turn away from the divide in her dream. She knew just beyond the bend in the path lay the road to her childhood home and she had no desire to see it. It was a vague memory not something she could recall in her memory. It wasn’t something she wanted to see and struggled to find her way back to being awake._

_“Why are you so scared?” came a soft, feminine voice from behind her._

_Turning around, Felicity knew she would see a lovely, pale young woman who presided over all of those who left the world of the living. Death was gentle with her, full of warm humour and genuine affection. It was eye opening and refreshing. In a funny way, she was happy to see her in her dreams. She was more than company. The more they talked, the more Felicity came to see her as an actual friend._

_Death is my friend, she thought with a smile, one day I’ll tell Oliver. I wonder how he will react?_

_“I’m not scared,” she said with a wry smile, “I’m just tired, I guess. I would love to sleep and dream nothing.”_   
_“My brother would NOT like that,” Death laughed._   
_“No, I suppose he wouldn’t,” she agreed with a smile._   
_“Come on. You need to step out of the woods.”_

_Felicity studied the ancient young woman as she wandered through the ferns towards her. She had a melancholic look on her face, like she knew something that was causing her pain and wasn’t yet ready to share. It made her nervous to think what that could be because this was Death after all._

_“What’s out there?” she asked softly._   
_“I don’t know. My brother doesn’t give spoilers,” Death teased gently, “Come on, let’s go find out.”_   
_“What if...what...what if it is Havenrock again?” Felicity asked in the quietest voice she possessed._   
_“Then we’ll sit and figure out what’s going on,” Death answered as she linked her arm through Felicity’s, “There are certain things no one should face alone.”_   
_“I know.”_

_Together, they stepped out of the woods, leaving the soft mist, and chirruping birds behind them and finally entered Felicity’s dream._

_What they saw wasn’t an alien landscape. There was no blowing sand, no crater, no nuclear sky. There were no wailing spirits or mountains of ash. It was the park that Oliver had built for Havenrock and for her. The one place of peace she had left in the world. It was simply stunning in the late afternoon sunlight. The leaves had fallen from the trees but there was still a sense of welcoming and serenity._

_Both of them instinctively turned towards the stone monument in the centre of the main garden. Felicity always went to it with a stone or pebble to leave at its base. One day, she would leave enough to match the number of dead. She felt tied to this space until it was time to acknowledge she had done her part to honour their memories._

_“What on earth is THAT?” exclaimed Death. She was looking at something in the stones at the base of the memorial._   
_“What?” Felicity asked, completely mystified._   
_“Look! That!”_

_Felicity peered closer and saw, buried beneath the small pebbles and shiny stones, a small copper box. One of those vintage pieces with a lovely blue patina like her grandmother had before she faded into the void of death and memory. This particular box had a small lock on its side, along with semi-precious stones set in a geometric design along the top, making it look larger than it really was._

_Felicity reached for it instinctively. She wanted to see what was inside it. Just before her fingertips reached it, she felt the weight and warm of Death’s hand on her arm. It was a warning and she listened to it immediately. Taking a step back, she looked at Death questioningly and waited to hear why she stopped her._

_“Let’s go sit down on the bench by the river,” Death said slowly, never once taking her eyes from the box as it shone with lustrousness that make it almost irresistible._   
_“Ok,” Felicity said, still mystified._

_In silence, they walked away from the monument and headed down the path to the small grove of trees that hid the bench Death was talking about. Felicity thought Death looked shaken which scared her. If something could unnerve Death, it had to be big._

_“So, what is the box all about?” Felicity asked._   
_“I am surprised to see it here,” Death said quietly as she stared out across water, watching the late afternoon sun glint and shine off its rippling surface._   
_“But...what IS it?” she asked more insistently._   
_“It’s why I am here. I just didn’t think Morpheus would let the box in so soon.”_   
_“What do you mean let? Does he control my dreams? Does he control EVERYONE’S dreams?”_

_Death laughed at the rapid fire delivery of Felicity’s questions and shook her head, “No, he doesn’t control your dreams, he simply provides the platform for them to happen in. Even your nightmares.”_   
_“I wish he would keep mine,” she grumbled._   
_“If you don’t have them, they lock into your psyche and eat your mind alive.”_   
_“That’s a bit dramatic,” Felicity laughed._   
_“That’s my brother! He can be SUCH a diva,” Death laughed, “But he is always so careful to make sure to locate the rotten parts and try to clear them out. He doesn’t catch all of them, obviously, but he does tend to help only the people that fascinate him.”_   
_“Like Oliver.”_   
_“Yes, like Oliver.”_   
_“So why are you fascinated with me?” she asked carefully._   
_“Because of what is in that box.”_   
_“But you won’t tell me what’s in it.”_   
_“Not yet.”_   
_“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious._   
_“Because we have a few other things to talk about.”_   
_“Like?”_   
_“Havenrock.”_

_Felicity froze. It was amazing how the air seemed to rush out of her lungs all at once. The world around her dimmed for just a moment. The leafless branches that swayed gently overhead seemed sinister and the wind held a bite she hadn’t felt earlier. Havenrock instantly popped into her mind, that bleak and toxic desert, and she wanted desperately to wake up, to get away from the idea of death and Death, herself._

_“You are stuck with me here for just a bit longer,” Death said with compassion and genuine affection._   
_“I don’t mind being here with you, I just...I don’t…,” she faltered._   
_“Felicity, you have to.”_   
_“Why?” she cried out in frustration and sorrow, “Why do I need to revisit it all the time? Why can’t I move past it?”_   
_“You can but there are a lot of things yet you need to figure out. Morpheus only lets me hang out here because of Havenrock,” Death explained, “You have yet to really look inside the room you’ve hidden all of the memories of that day in.”_   
_“So why are you hear and not Morpheus?” she asked softly._   
_“Morpheus felt his talents were better served with Oliver,” Death explained, “Your boyfriend has some issues he needs to figure out, too.”_   
_“Is Oliver ok?” she asked, sitting up in concern, “Do I need to do anything for him?”_

_Death smiled warmly at Felicity. The smile lasted so long, that Felicity could feel herself blush. It had been a long time since she had felt shy with anyone, but that is how she felt. Death was looking right through her, deep into her soul and heart, and the pervasive feeling of nakedness that suddenly rushed up to greet her left her feeling decidedly unnerved._

_“Oliver is well looked after in his dreamscape,” Death reassured her, “He might have a nightmare or two soon but he is going to be ok.”_   
_“Ok...but if he needs me…”_   
_“He’ll tell you,” Death chuckled._   
_“He is stronger than he knows,” Felicity mused._   
_“He says the same thing about you.”_

_Felicity smiled into the setting sun. The river, where it met the sea, foamed and surged, reflecting back the brilliant rosy red of the sky at the horizon, creating the image of lava as it moved over the surface of the water. She loved this part of the day, where it rose up to greet the night, and was glad her dream had created such a peaceful, quiet place for her to reflect on the state of her mind with Death._

_No chaos, no wailing, just a cool breeze coming off the water and the chirping of crickets in the thicket of woods behind them. She sometimes came down to this exact bench in real time to have lunch when she needed to get out of the office. It was rarely used because it was hidden and right on the water’s edge. She loved that it felt intimately tied to the natural world around it and not isolated and removed from the world as a result. She knew Oliver came here, too, but so far they had respected the other’s space and not intruded or insisted on accompanying each other._

_“Felicity, why do you think I am here?” Death asked carefully._   
_“To hold me responsible for Havenrock,” Felicity answered with profound sadness._   
_“No,” Death said slowly, “Because for a moment, a moment of indescribable horror, you had to make a choice between Monument Point and Havenrock. You made your choice and in that moment, you became me. You are carrying the souls of all the Havenrock dead in your heart and mind. You have to let them go and return them me. You are mortal, those souls will burn you up.”_

_Felicity looked at Death in horror. Slowly, tears spilled down her cheeks and a wail built up in her throat. She kept her lips firmly pressed together in fear that all that pain and sorrow would spill out of her. She could see Death watching her with sympathy and a strange understanding. If anyone would understand her grief, it would be Death but right now all she wanted to do was run away. To get as far away from Death as she possibly could._

_She was surprised that she wasn’t ready to relinquish the souls in her heart just yet. She felt possessive of them, like she needed to nourish them before their final journey. Felicity pushed herself away from the young woman, fearing her ability to take them away from her._

_“Don’t worry,” Death said, laying a warm hand on her shoulder, “I can’t take what doesn’t belong to me. I think maybe my brother should let you wake up now.”_

_Felicity looked up at her, grateful for the understanding, as the scene faded to black and she was released into the merciful quiet of deep, dark sleep._

III

 

The insistent sound of her alarm pulled her out of the inky depths of her dreamless sleep. Felicity opened her eyes and slowly focused on the window that overlooked the city. The sky was a turbulent grey and she watched as rain pelted it in waves. It was an early winter morning and perfect for traveling the hour out of town to the cabin she had found for them. She smiled as she thought about the next three days and turned over to find Oliver awake and watching her.

“Good morning,” she smiled at him.  
“Good morning,” he said softly. He was smiling but she could see the glint in his eyes that hinted at something more serious.  
“What?” she asked, “You have that look in your eyes. That serious ‘I need to tell you something’ look.”  
“You were crying in your sleep,” he said softly. Gently, he traced an invisible, long dry path a tear had taken with a fingertip.

Reaching up, she took hold of his hand and turned it to tenderly press a kiss to his palm. She didn’t want to answer the question forming between them. She remembered every word she and Death had spoken but the idea of saying them outloud terrified her.

“Are you ok?” he asked, his voice soft but strangled by concern and fear.  
“Yes,” she said in reassurance, of all the things he could have asked, this was the easiest to answer, “I am fine. I promise. Let’s get going. I am kinda excited to show you where we are going.”  
“Ok,” he smiled in obvious relief, “Are we taking a rental car?”  
“Nope, I’m driving.”  
“Wait…”  
“Oliver,” she said warningly, “I am a perfectly good driver. You know that.”  
“Yeah, but…”  
“But. What?” she asked pointedly, “it’s the man’s job to drive?”

Oliver wisely remained silent. She knew he liked to drive out of a misguided notion that it could keep her safe. They joked about him not liking her driving after one particularly close call when they first met but he had been bleeding out on her backseat and that meant creative driving was needed to get him to the original bunker. He countered that maybe her creative driving had lead to a more rapid bleeding out.

“I know you want to keep me safe,” she said softly, “but it is only a 50 minute drive out of town.”  
“That’s it?” he asked in surprise.  
“Yup!”  
“I do just want to make sure you are safe. I know it can be...overbearing,” he said quietly, “It’s reflexive and I don’t mean to make you feel bad or smothered.”

He was struggling to find the right words and it tore at her heart that he would put himself in such an uncomfortable place just to show her, really show her, that he saw her as his equal. Underneath the sudden cascade of love and appreciation she felt rising up out of her, she sensed a lurking guilt. She was keeping him at a distance while he was attempting to pull her closer.

“Oliver, I love you and I know,” she said emphatically, to signal that she understood, “So let’s get up, grab some breakfast from Nucci’s and get going.”  
“Yes ma’am,” he smiled before leaning over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.  
“I’ll shower first. No sharing though,” she said with mock seriousness, “I need to do lady things.”

Oliver’s laugh, a deep one from his belly, followed her into the bathroom. She loved his laugh now. It was loud, brash, and so full of life it seemed to burst out of his body. He shared it with her, John and Thea but no one else. It was as if he could only truly laugh around those that he trusted completely.

She wanted to share the shower with him but she was also keenly aware of what showers turned into when they were in them together and was glad she had made the decision to get in it alone. It didn’t stop her from letting her mind wander as she washed her body, but at least she was able to keep the shower short and mercifully sex free. They had three days ahead of them so one missed morning now was probably a good thing.

Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to the loft so she could grab her bag. Oliver kept his face straight when she said she would only be a minute. She narrowed her eyes at him, willing him to crack, but he stayed strong and only started to chuckle when she closed the door, leaving him to wait in her tiny Mini. The car was far too small for his broad frame but secretly, it pleased her that he was willing to put up with it in order to go where she was taking him.

It took her a bit longer than a minute, but for very good reason. Walking into the loft set the nerves in her right leg off. She was forced to sit down on the stairs to wait for the deep bee sting pains to stop. It hurt and distantly, she heard herself groaning softly as the bone deep stabs of white hot agony slowly subsided. Eventually, she was able to make her way up to her bedroom, hurriedly throw a few extra items into her small suitcase and make her way back to Oliver.

The elevator door opened and Oliver was on the other side, about to step into it when he looked up and saw her. Instantly, he knew. She could see the lightning fast connections he was making and almost laughed in relief. He didn’t say a word to her. All he did was hold out his hand for hers and together they walked back to her car. He took her keys, her suitcase and walked her over to the passenger side of the Austin Mini all without saying a word.

“Don’t worry,” he said in the soft voice he used only with her, “I brought the salve.”  
“I love you,” she said, stopping to give him a quick hug before getting into the car, “But how did you know?”  
“You are white as a sheet, clammy, and you were gone for 10 minutes.”  
“Oh,” she laughed in dismay, “I thought maybe I was limping again.”  
“You are but I only noticed that as we walked, now get in. Please.”

Chuckling to herself, Felicity got in, moved the seat up and settled in for the short drive. Now, she would have to direct him instead of surprise him. Oliver, to his eternal credit, picked up on her disappointment immediately. The pressure of his hand on her thigh provided instant reassurance that it didn’t matter to him how they got to where they were going so long as it was together.

“Now, you remember where north is, right?” he asked with an air of innocence that was so transparently fake, she was rolling her eyes before he was done speaking.  
“This isn’t Positano with switchback roads and crazy back alleys.”  
“True but maybe your implant is messing with your ability to figure out directions,” he shrugged with mock innocence.  
“Oliver, I have this crazy thing called a phone and a map!” she laughed.

She watched him compose his face as he side eyed her, not believing that she would actually read the map correctly. He pulled out into the mid-morning traffic and headed in the direction of the coffee shop to pick up their breakfast and ten minutes later they were off in the direction of the freeway. Carefully, because her mind was still a bit fuzzy from the pain earlier, she began to direct them out of town and in the direction of the cabin.

It was isolated without being remote and cut off from the rest of humanity and close enough to the ocean that would be able to hear the waves on the shore. With the storm overhead, the ocean would be thrashing the rocks and pounding the shoreline. It was a sound she would never tire of, especially as what she usually heard was horns, tires squealing and sirens.

“So how did you find the place we are headed to?” he asked as they past a large semitrailer loaded with logs for the local mill.  
“Online,” she answered, “I just stumbled on it by accident.”  
“Is it a condo?  
“Nope.”  
“A resort?”  
“Nope.”  
“A regular hotel?”  
“No!” she said as she burst out laughing, “You’ll see!”  
“What about food? Do we need to pick anything up? We must have to...right?” he asked.  
“I’ve taken care of it all. Oh, next exit for Route 9 heading west, take it,” she said, “I even ordered the right kinds of wine. Everything will be waiting for us.”  
“You thought of it all, didn’t you?”  
“I absolutely did. I wanted to make sure we could just show up with no stops between there and here. Turn left at the next intersection.”  
“Left?” he asked somewhat confused, “Are we headed towards the ocean?”  
“Obviously, Oliver.”  
“Smartass,” he muttered as they slowed to a stop at the red light in the turning lane.  
“You have NO idea,” she muttered back as she took a sip of her coffee. Catching the twitch of his lips as he struggled not to smile, she couldn’t help but grin. Their teasing of each other was usually the high point of her day and this was no exception.

“Do I keep on Route 9 or…?” he prompted.  
“Just keep going straight until I tell you to turn,” she reassured.

They traveled down the road and talked about the team as it was shaping up, his hopes for his term as Mayor and what to do about the crater left behind by Darhk. Felicity was sure they should backfill it and built on it but Oliver was concerned about any potential contaminants left over from the technology used to create it in the first place.

“This is when it would handy to have a girlfriend who is CEO of a large tech company,” Oliver grumbled.  
“I’ll see what I can find for you. There MUST be a Tinder type site for that,” she answered sarcastically.  
“That’s...that’s not what I meant,” he said in the tone of a man defeated.  
“Oh no, please, let me see what I can find for you after you turn left at the sign up ahead, followed by an immediate left right after that.”

Oliver chuckled as he followed her directions and glanced at her in curiousity. They had entered the forest of the Pacific Northwest coast and the enormity of the cedars, Douglas firs and old growth hemlock trees that surrounded them brought a need for reverent silence. She loved the forests out here, where size and scale suddenly altered and it was as if the purpose of the city they had left not forty minutes earlier no longer mattered.

“Felicity,” he said quietly and with a small dose of wonder, “I think I am going to love whatever it is you found.”

In answer, she reached across the small space separating them and gently rubbed his thigh. She was calmer than she had been in weeks and felt the sheltering security of trees older than the nation on which whose soil they grew. It was humbling and awe inspiring and she could hardly wait to get to the cottage.

“Ok, slow down just a bit. We are going to need to turn right in about half a mile,” she said in a hushed voice.  
“How did you find this place?” he asked again.  
“I found it by accident. I was looking for something else completely and found it. You will love it,” she smiled.  
“Based on the location so far, I think you are right.”  
“The driveway is coming up,” she said as she peered ahead.  
“Driveway?”  
“Oliver!” she laughed as she shook her head. The suspense was literally killing him and she knew it.  
“Well, I’m just saying a driveway sounds fancy.”  
“Just be sure to not miss it, ok?”

Oliver chuckled and turned smoothly into the almost completely obscured driveway she had indicated. The trees provided such a seamlessly thick canopy that it blotted out the sun and sending them shadow as they made their way down it. The driveway was long and wound its way through the cedars and after about five minutes, they came to its end and the cottage rose up to greet them.

“Wow,” Oliver breathed as he stopped the car at the end of the drive and looked at the cabin she had found for them, “Felicity...it is amazing.”  
“I thought you might like it,” she said softly as she watched his face relax into an almost childlike wonder, “Come on, let’s get inside. It looks like it is about to start raining again.”

And with a sudden flash of lightning, the sky opened up and a deluge of rain and thunder began.

“I’ll come grab our things from the backseat, you go open up the front door?” he asked.  
“That sounds like a very good plan,” she agreed.  
“How’s your leg?”  
“It should be fine for the dash up two stairs.”  
“Ok, let’s go.”

With that, they both opened their doors and began on their respective missions. Oliver was so quick that Felicity was sure he would beat her up the stairs to the front door. She swung her legs out of the car and stood up only to feel a bolt of white hot fire shoot down her right leg. There was no time to sit back down or grab the door for support, it only took a second for her to fall to the ground helpless and in agony.

“FELICITY!” was all she heard as strong arms suddenly wrapped around her and picked her up.

Distantly, she heard his feet pound up the short flight of cedar stairs and then she was gently being placed on the stone bench beside the front door.

“Where are the keys?” he asked firmly, his hands placed gently on her shoulders.  
“Un...under the mat,” she said through suddenly chattering teeth.

Retrieving them, Oliver quickly opened the door and picked her up to carry her inside.

“I’m filthy and soaking wet,” she whispered, “Take me into the kitchen until we figure out where the bathroom is, just set me on the floor.”  
“I’ll grab our things first, ok?” he asked gently.  
“Ok. I am suddenly really glad I packed a thick sweater and some flannel longjohns.”  
“Longjohns? You? In longjohns?”

She playfully punched him in the arm as he set her down and watched as he went to retrieve their bags. He was moving as fast as Barry to her pain addled eyes and it made her smile. He was probably thinking about all the time he missed in her recovery and feeling the sting of rebuke every time her legs gave out.

“Ok,” he said as he set their belongings down on by the door, “Let’s find the bathroom.”  
“Hopefully it will have a large tub,” she murmured against his neck as he lifted her off the floor.  
“Felicity Meghan Smoak…”  
“Oliver Jonas Queen…”

She felt him shiver just enough to know he wasn’t cold.

“I think I found it,” he said abruptly.  
“I think you did,” she agreed as she looked around the large room.  
“Do you think you can stand?” he asked uncertainly.  
“I should be able, too,” she answered as she gently prodded her thigh, “I don’t feel any bee sting pains, so I should be ok.”

Gently, he lowered her so she could test her legs out one and time. She had no pain, no numbness, just a slight residual ache from the fall. She knew he was watching but was resolute in not meeting his eyes just yet. She wanted to get out of her wet clothes, wash off the mud and drink wine by the fire but to that she needed him to leave the room so she could tend to herself.

“Do you need any help?”  
“No, Oliver, I’ll be fine. You go start the fire up and maybe see what is in the fridge to drink?” she suggested.  
“So long as you are sure…,” he sounded uncertain and slightly fearful.  
“Oliver, go get my bag and then go start the fire.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled as he leaned down to kiss her gently.

She could have spent an eternity in that kiss. It was perfect. Not just the firmness of it or the feel of his lips against hers, but the unspoken love, desire, list, passion and want that surrounded her because of it. She felt safe and whole. It was fleeting but she thought she tasted the metallic tang of the universe woven into the natural energy that flowed between them. It was a familiar taste that brought memories of their time in the Southwest and the gift of the nebula, the Ghost of Jupiter, that he had shared with her under a canopy of stars.

When he pulled away, he paused with his lips a fraction of an inch away from hers. She could feel the heat of his breath and the electric charge that crackled off of his skin. She had to make the break now before it was too late.  
“Ok, let me get changed,” she murmured in quiet regret.  
“Ok, one bag coming up,” and with that he was gone.

Felicity carefully slipped out of her clothes. She was wet and cold and eyeing the shower, a masterpiece of stone and waterfall showerheads, knew what she going to do. Luckily, the water heated up fast and she was in it before Oliver returned with her bag. She couldn’t see him for the steam but she knew he was there, just beyond the frosted glass doors of the shower. It was comforting and telling of just how in tune they were becoming once again. It gave her hope.

“Hand me a towel?” she called softly after turning off the water.  
“How did you know I was here?” he chuckled as he handed her a large bath towel.  
“I just did. There was no way you were going to leave me alone yet.”  
“I got the fire going and your clothes in the washer. Felicity, this place is amazing.”  
“Oh yeah?”  
“Yeah. It is beautiful,” he said, “When you’re dressed, I’ll show you around.”  
“Oh you’ll show me around?” she laughed.  
“I know where everything is, you, my love, do not.”  
“Is there coffee in the kitchen?” she asked as she towel dried her hair.  
“There is. Good coffee, too, you did well,” he beamed.  
“Would you be willing to go make some for us?”

She could see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted to make it, and probably lunch, but was reluctant to leave her alone in case her leg should give out again. She knew she was fine, the muscle was relaxed and working fine, but his deep desire to make sure she was safe, not just protected but safe, was overriding his common sense.

Instinctively, she moved towards him, slipping her arms around his waist and looked up at him, “I’m fine, Oliver. You could wait here until I’m dressed and then we could both go and I’ll make lunch while you make the coffee.”  
“Felicity, I love you, but I think I’ll leave you to get dressed while I go make us some lunch.”  
“Coward.”  
“I like to think of it as dying adverse. HEY!” he exclaimed as she pinched him.  
“Just watch it or one day…,” she mock threatened him.  
“You’ll cook for me and end my life with overcooked eggs?”  
“GO!” she half laughed, half yelled at him.

Felicity decided to slip into her thick sweater and flannel longjohns. She was still cold and hadn’t packed much else. From the direction of the kitchen, she could smell coffee and the sweetness of something baking. She hoped it was the cinnamon roll dough she had the resort send over. Annetta’s treat was still fresh in her memory so she was glad that she made a point of ordering it from the local grocery store.

“Whatever you are making sure smells good,” she said as she wandered out into the main room of the cottage and what a main room it turned out to be.

It was essentially one big room with a fireplace against the north wall. The gourmet kitchen, with its plank wood floors, stone countertops and high end appliances, was immediately beside the front door, and hid the hallway she was coming out of that lead to the master bedroom, second bedroom and bathroom. The dining area held a six seat reclaimed wood dining table, and the corner it was in was ringed with built in window seats.

The living room flowed out of this space with a set of french doors at the opposite end of the room. The entire main level was ringed with six foot tall windows, minus a portion of the wall that held the fireplace, and was cedar and stone throughout. Facing the kitchen, hidden by a wall, was a spiral wrought iron staircase that lead up to a short walkway and open loft.

The cottage itself was an A-frame structure and open all the way up, so skylights ringed the upper level. The natural light was diffused and softly white. It was beautiful. As was the scenery outside the windows. Old growth cedars, pine and hemlock trees ringed the property and, under the pounding rain, was the persistent sound of ocean waves pounding the shore just as she had hoped.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. It is gorgeous,” she breathed.  
“What. Are. You. Wearing?”  
“What? You don’t like my attempt at cottage chic?” she said in fake surprise.  
“You look sexy in paper bag but that ensemble...is not a paper bag.”  
“I’m going to take that as a good thing and retire to the living room. That fire feels amazing,” she sighed.  
“Go. Sit. I’ll bring out the coffee and food,” he said with a chuckle and shake of his head.

Her leg aside, this weekend was starting out beautifully and she felt a tiny bit spoiled but it had been a long time since they had spent the weekend alone together. She was hoping that they could reconnect back to one another once and for all. She needed it, she needed to be centred in their relationship so that she could find her way back to some semblance of normalcy.

“Lunch is served,” Oliver said with a flourish, snapping her back to the moment.  
“I smell coffee and cinnamon rolls,” she moaned in pleasure.  
“Felicity, you weren’t kidding around with the food,” he sighed in contentment as he sat down on the overstuffed couch beside her.  
“Well, we have weird luck when it comes to being out of town,” she said around a mouth full of rich, buttery bread.  
“I’m going to go for a run after this,” he said quietly as he ate.  
“Do you really need to do that or want to do that?”  
“If not for my running, I wouldn’t have made it home from the warehouse exploding.”  
“True,” she said, although privately she was disappointed that he was going to go for a run. He never went for short runs, so he would be gone for at least two hours.

“I promise to not go on a full twenty mile run,” he said softly, as though reading her thoughts, “I’ll try to only be gone for an hour or so. It is still raining really hard though, so if it doesn’t ease up I’ll stay in.”  
“Ok, but I know you need to keep up your figure.”  
“And what will you do while I’m gone?”  
“Nap. Maybe read and then nap.”  
“You mean you won’t get the hot tub ready for when I get back?”  
“The what?” she asked, almost choking on her coffee, “When I rented it there was no hot tub advertized!”  
“It’s out back, outside of the master bedroom,” he laughed.  
“Oh my God...don’t hate me, but I hope it rains all weekend.”  
“Why, Felicity,” he said in pretend shock, “Sometimes I think you only love me for my body not my mind.”  
“Well, duh.”  
“Just for that, I might just go for that run regardless.”  
“You wouldn’t dare...” she warned darkly.  
“Sucker.”  
“You will pay for every word you utter,” she scowled trying desperately not to laugh, “Now, about Annetta...did you really haul dirt for her garden?”  
“I did. There is no saying no to her. She is formidable. Like my mother once was,” Oliver said, his voice softening with sadness as he mentioned his mother.

Felicity put her mug down and turned to face him. His profile was a thing of beauty. She reached out and traced the line of his cheek and jaw with her fingertips and quietly sighed. He was capable of acts of such supreme heroism, that she sometimes forgot underneath was a man who missed his parents with a profound longing and sadness. She had her mom and her father, to lesser degree, but all he had left was Thea.

“When we get back to Star City, we should go leave flowers on your mom and dad’s graves,” she said softly, “Maybe Tommy’s, too.”  
“I would like that,” he said in a quiet voice, choked with emotion.  
“I never really met your dad outside of the one or two times in passing at Queen Consolidated, but I think I would have liked him.”  
“He would have loved you,” Oliver said with certainty, “He would have wanted to adopt you.”  
“That would make this awkward…”  
“Nah, we’d find a way around it.”  
“Weirdo.”  
“That reminds me, I need to text your mom.”  
“WHAT? Oliver, please tell me you are just teasing.”  
“Nope.”  
“Why? Why do you persist in doing this?” she groaned.  
“I said I’d send her my curried chicken recipe! That’s it!” he protested.  
“Ok, but I swear, it is a sickness with you.”

Just then there was a crack of thunder and flash of lightning overhead and the wind suddenly picked up. It wasn’t a hurricane but it was a solid winter storm and she was grateful to be with him even as the storm blocked out the light and the trees creaked all around them. Those ancient trees that had seen storm after storm now sheltered them from the full brunt of the one at their door.

“I think I’ll skip the run. They have a DVD collection and a 50 inch flat screen…,” Oliver said suggestively.  
“Ooooh! Princess Bride?” she asked.  
“No. Just...no,” he said shaking his head emphatically.  
“Fine. I’ll let you choose the first one.”  
“And the second.”  
“Only if you promise me another massage.”  
“You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Smoak,” he said in mock resignation.

The rest of the afternoon and height of the storm was spent watching Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Empire Strikes Back. Oliver had no interest in catching up on movies he may have missed over the preceding eight years, he was a classics kind of man. Oliver could rewatch the original Star Wars films and enjoy every minute of them even when she tried to get him to watch newer films. Going to the theatre was out of the question, as the intensity of the sounds and lights were triggers for closely guarded secrets and memories that had once prompted a week of violent nightmares, but still he held onto the movies made in preceding generations.

Soon she was full, warm and comfortably nestled into Oliver’s side. Somewhere midway through Raiders, they had retrieved a blanket and stretched out on the impossibly long and wide couch. Felicity stripped off her heavy sweater to the tshirt she was wearing underneath, and gratefully retreated back under the blanket where she dozed off halfway through The Empire Strikes Back.

She didn’t so much dream as get swept up into a maelstrom of images, sounds and sensations. One minute she was laying in the sun on a remote beach in Bali, the next she was screaming for Oliver from inside Darhk’s gas chamber. She pinballed between pleasure and pain until she was watching Oliver fall over the dam, shot by a sniper, but she was too late to save him. As she reached for his outstretched hand, she felt the bite of bullets entering her body and the hot agony that followed.

“Felicity,” a voice called to her quietly and insistently, “Felicity, come on, wake up.”  
“Mmmmmm…Oliver?” she mumbled.  
“Wake up, love.”  
“Why is my face wet?” she asked, confused and uncertain where she was.  
“Felicity, it’s ok, just open your eyes for me, ok?”

Oliver sounded...scared. A flutter of panic rose up in her chest and she snapped awake. Wildly, she looked around to see where she was and saw the skylights overhead which framed the still raging storm, and felt the persistent heat of the fire radiating out from the stone fireplace in front of them. She had hoped the storm would have slowed down by now but the thunder still sounded like it was right overhead and the wind was howling through the tall trees that surrounded them.

“Oliver? What is it?” she asked as she fully awoke.  
“You were crying...I couldn’t wake you up,” he said, his voice soft but strained.  
“It’s ok. I’m ok,” she said gently, turning to face him.  
“What were you dreaming about?”  
“I can’t remember. Nothing specific. Just moments from the past two years, some real but some…,” she trailed off, not sure how to finish her thought.  
“Some?” he prompted.  
“What could have happened. Like if I had been a moment too late arriving when you fell over the edge of the dam or if you hadn’t been able to break us out of the gas chamber…,” she found herself unable to complete the sentence. The terror of that moment washed over her and she looked up into his eyes, darkened now to the colour of sapphires, and found herself uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“If I could have shielded you from all of that I would have,” his voice carried the regret and sorrow she knew he hid from her but when they were at their most intimate was often when he was at his most unguarded.  
“Oliver, if you apologize to me, so help me God…,” she sighed.  
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiled, “I know better now. Felicity...you can tell me about your nightmares. I am kind of an expert in the whole nightmares when you sleep area.”  
“I know, I just can’t always remember them.” she said slowly. She was trying desperately to not pull away from him as she remembered every single nightmare from her first brush with true danger at the hands of Count Vertigo to every single moment spent trying to defeat Darhk.

The only thing that could be called a saving grace at this point is that she was no longer dreaming every night about Havenrock. Now that Death had made herself known, the Havenrock guilt had eased up on her psyche but she was still unwilling to share more than was absolutely necessary with Oliver about the images her mind would unleash in the darkest hours of the night.

“I know you, Felicity, I know when you aren’t telling me something.”  
“Oliver…”  
“No, it’s ok. I can’t demand it of you. I just hope you let me all the way in one day.”

Unspoken, but keenly felt, where the words, “before it is too late.” Felicity pulled him as close as she could and swallowed hard. Her throat ached from keeping the tears from starting anew and her heart felt heavy yet hollow in her chest. He would never give her an ultimatum, for very good reasons when it came to sharing or not secrets, but if she drifted too far it was the emotional distance that would become too great to cross.

“Soon, OIiver, soon,” she murmured as she pulled him down into a deep, soul igniting kiss.  
“Come on, let’s explore,” he breathed, his lips on her neck.  
“Explore what?” she asked as she ran her hands over his head, through his hair and down across his shoulders, lingering only on the hard lines of his muscles.  
“The cottage,” he murmured as his lips found hers again.  
“Hmmm...the cottage,” she hummed as she returned his kiss.

Oliver’s arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, as the air crackled with tension and heat all around them. She knew this exquisite tension intimately. It was the moment where they could give into the rising tide of desire or break contact and continue on with their day. Felicity wanted to give in but she also wanted to see the cottage. Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and sighed.

“Let’s go see the cottage. I need to see what I am missing,” she said somewhat regretfully, aware of the heat rising off of Oliver’s body.  
“Ok,” he sighed, “Let’s go see the tub!”  
“The tub? You mean the hot tub.”  
“No, I mean the tub,” he said mischievously.  
“You are like a bloodhound when it comes to finding those things,” she muttered as she untangled herself from Oliver.  
“Any chance to get you naked and wet…,” Oliver stopped and groaned in mock anguish.  
“Oh my God, Oliver. You did NOT just say that!”  
“Let’s just get up and go look,” he said with a world weary sigh.  
“I cannot believe how pink your cheeks are getting,” she laughed.

Oliver stood up and stretched, “This couch felt good on my back. Maybe I’ll sleep out here this weekend.”  
“Oliver,” she warned darkly, “if you even think of sleeping out here this weekend, you are walking home.”

Oliver laughed and then scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hallway off the kitchen and put her down in front of two doors with stained glass windows set in them. With an exaggerated flourish, he opened them and she was greeted by an extra large, claw foot copper tub that was surrounded by windows and illuminated by a set of skylights in the ceiling above. It was spectacular. The view was even better as it looked out the rear of the cottage towards the forest and ocean beyond.

“Woooooooooow,” she breathed.  
“Later?” he asked as he slipped behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling to him so he could nuzzle her hair.  
“Oh I will have to insist.”  
“You are a good woman, Felicity Smoak.”  
“Better than most!”  
“I wouldn’t go that far.”  
“Oliver Jonas Queen…,” she said in pretend surprise.

He laughed and lifted her about an inch off of the ground and walked her to the master bedroom at the very back of the cottage. Felicity would have protested but she loved the hardness of his body, the ridges of muscles that rippled as he walked and the static electricity as their bodies connected. When she saw the room, she forgot that he was carrying her. It was gorgeous.

It wasn’t overly large but it held a king sized bed and small sitting area with built in window seats that faced a set of french doors that lead out to the wrap around deck and the new hot tub. Felicity felt a sudden desire to buy the cottage and call it home. It was perfect. There was a second bedroom, which they past on their way to the tub, and if the brief glimpse up at the loft was any indication, there was an office space in the rafters.

“Oliver, this is better than I expected.”  
“I have to say, you hit the jackpot.”  
“I sure did,” she mused as she turned around to face him.  
“The rain isn’t easing up,” he said softly as he brushed the hair back from her face.  
“It isn’t,” she agreed while she slowly slipped her hands under his shirt so she could feel his skin.  
“I was thinking about lying down for a bit,” he said in his low, growly voice, the one she loved so much.  
“Mmmhmmm,” she hummed quietly as she pressed her lips to his chest, “I think we need figure out if it is big enough for both of us.”  
“It does look small,” he mused.

Felicity felt his hands in her hair, tipped her head back, and then his lips were against hers, soft and yielding. His gentleness spurred a fierce desire in her, unlike the times when his desire for her was rougher and her response was to soften under him. They balanced each other yet always found a way to meet each other halfway. When his tongue touched her lips, she instinctively tightened her fingers on his battle scarred skin.

Using his strength, Oliver lifted her easily and walked to the bed. She knew somehow that he was intent on taking his time unlike the night before on the couch in his hotel room. The memory of which caused a hot flush to race over her body. When he let her down, she let him undress her.

While she rarely thought in terms of erotic, but when he undressed her or put all of her needs and wants before his own, she was in ecstasy. Now, she felt the tips of his fingers brush against her skin and her knees started to go weak. Felicity closed her eyes and followed the journey he was taking them on simply by the way his fingers explored her skin as he undressed her.

“You smell so good,” Oliver murmured as he trailed his lips down her neck.  
“Mmmmm…,” was the only thing she had the capacity to say as she felt his hands travel slowly down her arms before moving up her back to her hair again.

His featherlight touches were hypnotic. Her mind drifted and spread itself out, as though trying to find the corners of the universe, and she let her body follow suit. When his lips joined the pathway his hands were blazing over her softest skin, her knees buckled just enough for Oliver to feel and he took his cue.

“Let’s see just how small that bed is,” he whispered against her neck.  
“You need to join me in nudity,” she hummed in his ear.  
“Maybe…,” and with that he pulled the covers down and climbed into the bed pulling her in beside him, “You’re shivering.”  
“It’s chilly back here,” she sighed as she laid back down next to him.  
“I guess I could have started the gas fireplace.”  
“Wait! There’s a gas fireplace in the bedroom?”

Oliver pointed towards the wall facing the windows and she spotted it.

“You should get up and turn it on,” she suggested.  
“Nah, we won’t need it,” he murmured as he leaned over her, pulling her into a long, gentle kiss.

Later on, she would remember that moment as the turning point for what was to come and how things changed so fast that they almost wound up losing one another to the vast, unspoken worlds contained within their own minds. But before all that could come to pass, what she would often think about was the gentle firmness of his hands on her body and the tender passion of his kiss.

This was the prelude that she enjoyed most. She loved sex with Oliver, almost too much, but it was the start of it, the tender almost shy seeking kisses before they both gave way and let their mutual need for the other take over that never failed to set her blood on fire and her heart racing.

That first kiss, almost chaste before the heat of his tongue on her lips caused her to open to him, pulling his tongue into her mouth in an intense, passionate one, caused the world around them to fade away and she clung to him, moaning softly as he moved to kiss her neck, shoulders, and breasts.

She gasped in pleasure as he gently sucked first one nipple to almost painful hardness and then the other. Felicity gripped his hair, short though it was, and tried to not stop him on his journey down her body. The coarse feel of his beard, the softness of his lips and tongue and the way he moved his hands over her were almost too much.

“Oh God, Oliver,” she gasped.  
“Are you ok?” he asked in sudden concern.  
“Yes, more than ok. What you are doing feels really, really good.”  
“So I shouldn’t stop?” he asked as he slipped his hand between her legs, his thumb gently circling her clit.  
“Don’t...don’t even think about it,” she breathed.  
“Well, I did say I wanted to get you naked and wet…”  
“You need to get naked. Now.”

Oliver laughed and stripped out of his shirt and pants, unceremoniously throwing them onto the floor. There was a playfulness to him now that she adored more than she could ever hope to express. Life may be hard at times, and death was an ever present reality in their night time world, but when all that was set aside they were able to engage with life and each other in ways that brought joy to almost every single moment.

Before she could pull him to her, he moved between her legs and pushed his body downwards, laying light, gentle kisses on her stomach and hips. Felicity held her breath while she waited to see what he was going to do. He never did the same thing twice and the waiting drove her wild underneath him.

This time, he kissed her inner thighs, the scruff of his beard tickling her sensitive skin, before slowly lowered his mouth to her and licked up and then back down again. He was studiously avoiding direct contact with her sensitive clit, concentrating instead on tasting and teasing her. It was exquisite torture for her and he knew it.

Just when she trying to find her voice to urge him on, his tongue found her clit and he slowly slipped two fingers inside her. Felicity carded her hands through his hair and moved her hips in time with the slow thrusting of his fingers. He kept slowing down and moving his mouth away from her, pushing her to the edge of reason over and over again.

“God, Oliver, please…,” she gasped, “Just...just a little harder.”

But he ignored, instead repeating his movements and pathways, drawing long moans from her until she was sure she was going to start sobbing in a mix of ecstasy and frustration. He wasn’t allowing her to orgasm just yet and she honestly didn’t know if she was going survive him long enough to achieve one. He was determined to exhaust her and she welcomed it.

Feeling his lips on her stomach, Felicity opened her eyes and watched him as he slowly made his way up her body. She pulled him up so she could kiss him, not giving him time to wipe his face, she wanted to taste him through her. He groaned into her, sucking on her bottom lip while she reached between them so she could gently grasp his cock.

Needing no encouragement, she stroked him until he was hard. He hissed in pleasure and gently rubbed the head of his cock up and down the hot, wet length of her. Felicity shivered and her body moved of its own accord. Hooking one leg around him, Felicity nestled him against her and waited until the she could feel that delicious friction that sparked from within them both.

Looking up into eyes the colour of storm clouds above them, Felicity saw desire fueled lightning flash within them. Tenderly, she outlined the shape of his jaw with her fingertips, her hand coming to rest on his chest where she could feel his heartbeat dance. When he dipped his head so that he could reach her lips with his own, the kiss was soft and lingering. A lovers kiss that didn’t need anything beyond the sweet exchange of breath, love and hope.

Slowly, Oliver pushed into her with one, long, satiny thrust and then he stayed there, buried deep within her body. He had managed to pin her pelvis and hips with his own so she was unable to move, to create the much needed friction, that sweet resistance, that they both chased night after night.

“Oliver...move your hips,” she murmured with a soft smile, knowing that he was waiting for her to urge him onward.  
“Like this?” and with that question, Oliver pulled almost all the way out before slowly thrusting back inside her.

Felicity moaned, low in her throat, a sound that was both primal and alive. She felt Oliver’s breath, hot and fast, blow against her skin and knew he was holding himself in check, that all of this was for her pleasure and not his own.

And oh, how she loved him for it.

“God, Felicity...you feel so good,” he gasped against her neck, “I love you…”  
“Shhhhh,” she said softly, “Just show me…”

Oliver repeated the slow, long thrusts while managing to keep her pinned to the soft bed. The heat uncoiling at the base of her spine was slowly moving throughout her body. Felicity knew her orgasm was a ways off but the way he was deliberately and slowly moving them both towards it was so intimate and deeply felt that she wasn’t sure if she would cry out in ecstasy or sob in relief when it finally happened.

As much as she wanted him to move faster, she relaxed into bed and held onto him, letting him control this moment. Felicity smiled as she kissed him and hummed with pleasure when he increased the rhythm of his hips. He was making quiet sounds low in his throat that reverberated through her body, creating an intense vibration that rumbled and shook her bones. Oliver pressed down slightly harder onto her pelvis, making contact with her clit, and she saw stars burst into view all around them.

He made lovemaking an art form, changing it from sex and lust to an expression, a landscape, of his love for her, and the one he was exploring now through touch and taste was one they were creating together. Felicity ran her hands over his back, tracing his agony and past through the ridges of his scars, and sought the spaces between them, where the quiet moments of his life were held and pressed her fingers in them. It was her way of leaving a mark on him with her fingerprints, unseen but intensely felt.

Staring up into his eyes, turbulent and infinitely blue, the heat at the base of her spine began to spiral out faster and faster. Wrapping her legs around his waist meant she finally was able to move her hips just enough to increase the pressure and friction between them. Felicity traced his lips with her fingers and pulled him down into a long, passionate kiss.

She never tired of kissing Oliver. The feel of his tongue inside her mouth and the way she could still taste herself on his lips, while he began to thrust faster with shorter strokes, created pulsing waves of pleasure that washed over her like a tsunami. They were both breathing harder and faster and she could feel him start to throb and swell inside her. He was so close but holding on for her.

“Felicity,” he whispered in a ragged voice, “God, I am so close…”  
“Hold on,” she hummed next to his ear, “Oliver...I love you…”

She heard her voice, so remote and far away, as she whispered in his ear, saying words of love and joy over and over, like an incantation or prayer. Finally, she felt the first shuddering wave of ecstasy. Her body vibrated and her back arched off the bed. It felt like an earthquake as her orgasm took her, shattering her conscious mind as the uncoiling energy cascaded through her to him in a series of tremors and pulses.

With a loud moan, Oliver thrust hard and deep inside her and her body clenched down around him, trying to hold him tight within her. His cock throbbed and finally he came in a hot, shuddering flood. She loved how it felt when he came like this, primal and raw, like he was trying to merge his entire being with hers. It was overwhelming and the tears she had been holding back finally spilled and flowed down her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly while using his thumb to wipe them away, “What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing, Oliver, nothing at all,” she whispered, not trusting her voice, “that...that was just amazing.”  
“So these are tears of joy?” he murmured as he tenderly kissed her cheeks free of tears.  
“Yes,” she smiled, “You are wonderful, Oliver. Just spectacularly wonderful.”

Normally, Oliver would deflect those kinds of compliments with a sarcastic remark or joke. She knew he wasn’t yet comfortable with the way she saw him. He was still growing into that acceptance but in this moment, he smiled and rewarded her with a kiss that shattered her.

With this one simple act, it was like he was showing her the vastness of his love for her and how much he trusted her with everything he had in him. Given time, she knew he would tell her all of his darkest secrets, all of the things that he was ashamed of, that created the man that she fell so hopelessly in love with. His selflessness humbled her. Oliver, in his own way, had figured out how to open his heart like a book and let her see the contents within.

All the messages shared in that one, simple kiss wrapped themselves around the last wall she had erected around her heart, the one born from the devastation of Havenrock, and waited even as they splintered her mind. Felicity felt a sadness leaking through the cracks in her consciousness. She wanted so desperately to destroy the wall and connect with Oliver, communicate with him finally about what was really lurking beneath the surface of her heart but fear kept her silent.

With a sigh of contentment, Oliver shifted his body off of her, his now softened cock twitched gently as it slid out of her body, leaving her to feel serenely relaxed. Propping herself up on an elbow, Felicity looked down at him, and smiled. He was flushed with an afterglow she had never seen before. He looked genuinely happy, like this could be their home and life forever. Her heart raced at the idea of spending her life with him and she quickly sent the thought flying away. She would think about it but not yet, not now, they still had some distance to cross separately and together before thoughts of forever could be shared.

“Come on,” he said with a wicked grin, “let’s go try out that tub.”  
“The hot tub?” she said with a wink.  
“Now? Naked in the storm?”  
“I guess not,” she said, somewhat disappointed, “We’d have to figure out how to turn it on.”  
“You mean this remote control doesn’t control it?” he said innocently as he reached across the bed towards one of the bedside tables.  
“You have got to be kidding me.”  
“I figured out how to turn it on when you were in the shower,” he said casually, but obviously incredibly proud of himself, “It can be ready in 5 minutes.”  
“Turn it on,” she encouraged, “I think a hot tub under cover would be perfect.”  
“Sold,” he said and pressed the start button. The hot tub on the deck rumbled into life, sending its vibration into the bedroom.  
“You even got robes and towels ready, didn’t you?” she said accusingly.  
“You mean those ones you are looking at by the door?” he laughed.  
“You sneak.”  
“It takes a lot to get even half a step ahead of you, Felicity.”

Knowing that laying back down could lead to a spontaneous nap, she sat up and nudged him with her knee. When he didn’t immediately respond, she looked back and saw he was studying her back. She felt a wild rush of embarrassment, fear and panic. He had never once expressed pity for the scars that covered her skin but she saw something akin to it reflecting in his eyes now and it horrified her. She didn’t want his pity or guilt.

In one smooth movement, before he could stop her, she left the warmth of their shared bed. Grabbing a robe off of one of the hooks by the door, she slipped it on and turned to make her way quickly out of the room.

“I think maybe I’ll just have another shower,” she said in voice that sounded too high to her ears, “we can try the hot tub later tonight maybe.”

Before she could even get to the doorway, Oliver was out of the bed and in front of her using his body to block her from leaving.

“Felicity?” he asked in confusion and concern, “What is it?”  
“Oliver…please,” she started, feeling her panic slowly giving way to grief mixed with helpless rage, “Just...nevermind.”  
“No, Felicity. No nevermind, no maybe later, no it’s nothing. Something happened a minute ago. What was it,” he wasn’t asking her this time. He was demanding an answer from her in a way that startled her.  
“You really want to know?” she asked defiantly.  
“Yes!” he answered in exasperation, “I actually do!”  
“Fine. You...you were looking at my back and I could see the pity in your expression. Pity, Oliver. The one thing I asked to never, ever see or hear from you. Especially after making love to me like THAT,” her voice was tight and she could feel herself begin to tremble.  
“Felicity…,” he began, puzzlement and a kind of sorrow only someone who had suffered and lost as much as he had crossing his face in equal measures, “I don’t pity you. I wasn’t looking at your back in pity…it was awe. Your strength humbles me and when I see...when I see those scars, I see you. The you no one else gets to see. The you that I would die for, over and over and over again.”

She was fighting a losing battle to the flood of memories and images punching through her consciousness. She was keenly aware of the visual her back presented. It was a roadmap of agony and trauma that she tried to forget so when she saw him looking so intently at her, she saw pity because that is what she expected him to be feeling. That he saw strength in their puckered, angry red ridges, and in the spaces between them, shocked her.

“I always thought you hid what you really felt when you saw them,” she said softly as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes, “I told you never to pity me but I thought you did.”  
“How...Felicity, why? You know I wouldn’t…,” he trailed off and Felicity knew he was at a genuine loss for words.  
“I don’t know that, Oliver. I mean I didn’t because I expected it,” she said with more heat than she had intended.  
“You know me. Better than anyone. Felicity,” he said with more force, making her look up at him, “You know me better than THAT.”

For a moment they both stood in silence. The thunder, now softer and further away, rumbled and echoed through the distance between them. Oliver stood stock still, distant lightning flashes dancing over his gloriously naked skin in front of her and waited for her to do or say something. Felicity studied him in the waning afternoon light and saw no deception. He was being as truthful as he knew how to be in his confusion. For whatever reason, she had seen what she expected to see and not what was true.

Her own guilt and self loathing had sabotaged what should have been an intimate and tender moment shared with the man she loved beyond reason. Maybe the only man she would ever truly love. Clenching her fists, Felicity bit down on her lip to keep herself from crying again. She was profoundly disappointed in herself for believing he would see her as an object to be pitied and feel sorry for after all they had been through together.

“Listen,” he said in his softest voice, the one reserved only for her, “let me grab that robe. I’ll turn the hot tub off, we can always enjoy it later, and let’s have a shower. Ok? I am freezing. And naked.”

In spite of herself, Felicity laughed. He was, indeed, very naked and the room was cool without the fireplace on. Reaching up, she place her hand on his cheek and smiled, “I’m sorry, Oliver.”  
“You have nothing to apologize for, Felicity,” he said seriously, “Whatever it is that made you think that, we’ll figure it out. Together. Ok?”  
“Ok,” she agreed.  
“So...shower?”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded and waited for him to put on his robe. She was angry with herself but impressed that he had stood his ground and made her face him in the moment. Not waiting or letting her distance herself from him emotionally or physically. It was like old times, before William, before Havenrock and Darhk. Back when they were still figuring each other out and testing the bounds and bonds of their connection.

“What?” he asked warily, “You are giving me that look…”  
“Look?”  
“You are thinking about something...I can tell.”  
“I’m...I’m just thinking that what you just did here was like when we first met. When we were still new to each other and willing to stand toe to toe, regardless of the outcome.”

Oliver moved in close to her and cradled her face in his large hands. She felt the drag of his thumbs over her lips, the weight of his gaze and was lost in the wake left behind them. His eyes shone in the dimming light and they were all she needed to see.

“Felicity, you have shown me that the darkness we have within us doesn’t define us. We have come through so much together and it has made us stronger,” he paused to gently kiss her, “more unified than ever before. Because of who we are.”  
“You really believe in me, don’t you?” she asked softly, her lips still tingling from his kiss.  
“Always have, always will,” he murmured before kissing her again.  
“We should go shower,” she sighed softly, “I am starving.”  
“Those two things...do not go together,” he chuckled.  
“Well, we can’t eat until we shower so…”  
“Understood,” he smiled before kissing her again. This time it wasn’t a soft kiss, it was deep and probing, full of love and longing. She hummed in pleasure when he pulled her tongue into his mouth but then gently pushed away from him if only to catch her breath.

“Shower,” she said firmly.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he sighed.  
“We have a 3 nights along, Oliver,” she whispered, “I think we have a LOT of time to explore.”  
“Vixen,” he chuckled but let her lead the way to the washroom.  
“Then dinner, right?”  
“If I say no, you’ll just offer to cook so, yes, dinner after,” he said as he turned the water on.  
“For that remark, one day I will just surprise you with a homecooked meal.”  
“Not funny, Smoak. Now get in.”

Felicity remembered the shower that followed, where Oliver washed her body, mind and soul with the gentlest of hands, as one of quiet peace. She remembered the softness of the towel that dried her skin and the coolness of the air in the cottage when they retreated to the bedroom to get dressed. Above all else, she would remember the kiss that snuck past her defenses and forced her to dive deep into her mind so that she could finally see herself through his eyes.


	10. Night Three: Getaway Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh! Where to start...This is an incredibly long chapter with a lot of things going on. This is Oliver's POV and it dives DEEP into dreams with Dream (Morpheus) from the Sandman comics, along with Death. 
> 
> I touch on the Bratva (TRIGGER WARNING: I GET REALLY DESCRIPTIVE IN THE VIOLENCE), Havenrock, love, death, need and the powerless we all feel when confronted by someone we love being in untouchable pain, and lots of sex. Like, LOTS. 
> 
> The story is pulling them apart because they need to fall apart before coming together and Oliver is seeing things through Felicity's eyes.
> 
> I also mention (in passing) my fics: The Ghost Of Jupiter, The Unimaginable and The Ghost of Jupiter:Bali.

**Night Three: Getaway Part Three**

 

_She painted his sky_   
_With a paintbrush_   
_Loaded with stars._

I

Oliver drifted awake in stages. First, he was aware of the change in light as it filtered in from the tinted hotel windows and then he heard the wind as it howled past. It was still early, too early to wake Felicity up, so he laid there with his eyes closed and listened to the sounds in the room.

It was then that he heard Felicity’s quiet sniffling. Concern, mixed with curiosity, prompted him to turn towards her and open his eyes. She was crying softly in her sleep, the sheets balled up tightly in her hands, and as much as he wanted to wake her up, he knew she had to drift awake like he had done.

After his nightmare, he had slept the rest of the night in merciful peace. The echoes of the man’s screams before he died would haunt Oliver for the rest of his life, but at least he was able to silence him in his mind for a few hours so that he could rest up for the coming weekend. He had been surprised at how quickly Felicity had agreed to it and even more surprised with how nervous and excited he was to be going away with her for a short three day trip.

They had spent 5 months alone, flying across the globe and then back in the states setting up home together, and he felt no fear or trepidation. He had felt reborn and almost obscenely happy but never once had felt nervous. So much had changed between them, to their world, to their friends and family since those idyllic months away. He wasn’t sure how the weekend would go, but he hoped it would bring greater transparency to their communication. Something was off with her and he had to make a choice as to how to confront it.

Before that could happen, he had to decide if he was going to wait for the alarm to go off or if he should gently wake her. Her tears had stopped, and she had a quiet hitch to her breathing, so now may be the right time to pull her back to him. He was reaching for her when the alarm went off and he couldn’t help but smile as she reluctantly woke up.

When he told her about her tears, she deflected his concern and assured him that she was fine. It was a lie, but he wasn’t going to push it just yet. He knew Havenrock still weighed heavily on her heart and mind but maybe that was something he could help her with in a less confrontational way. It was something that weighed on his conscience, that he had been unable to stop Darhk in time and that she had been left to save the world on her own.

But his pride and awe at her ability that day was not something he had tried to give voice to just yet. He showed her his commitment to her healing and to the community at large by building a park. When he told her about the box at the centre of the stone sculpture, he felt her reclaim a portion of herself back from the brink. She didn’t have to say anything, he watched it happen right in front of him and it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. It was like a spark of energy had returned to her eyes and the light that had dimmed in her slowly began to brighten.

Felicity was eager to get going, even though it was still relatively early in the day, and took his ribbing about her driving in stride. He was mostly kidding about always wanting to drive but part of him was always struggling to not step between her and any potential threat, even if it was simply driving down the street, in an effort to keep her safe. Not just shielded from harm but absolutely safe.

She rolled her eyes at him and headed into shower to get ready. She insisted on showering alone for personal, lady reasons and he laughed so loud, she shut the door to drown him out. He was glad for the alone time but did regret not being able to start the morning with her under the hot, running water. Oliver loved showering with Felicity. It was intimate and insanely sexy. But, all things considered, they were probably going to spend a lot of time in bed over the next three days so a missed morning interlude wasn’t such a bad thing.

His shower was mercifully short and they were out the door in record time. She still needed to pick up her travel bag, so he agreed to wait in the car in front of her building so that she wouldn’t have to park in the garage and, although he didn’t say it out loud, he thought it would make her move just a bit faster.

Watching her go into the elevator, Oliver speculated on them living together again. He missed it and her. The comfortable morning routines, the idea of a shared life, a home created and the inescapable joy of constant rediscovery made him breathe deep. One day, it would happen again one day but only when they were truly ready. He felt it was an inevitability if they continued strengthening their bonds and bringing out the best of each other.

Checking his watch, he saw that ten minutes had past since she went up to the loft. Something was wrong, he could feel it. He was out of the car and in front of the elevator in the blink of an eye. He was about to barrel in when he saw Felicity standing in front of him and from just one glance he knew what had happened and why it took her so long to return to the car.

Taking her suitcase in one hand, and one of her hands in his, he walked her back to the car and safely settled in the passenger seat. Not a single word was exchanged until she asked him how he knew. He wasn’t sure how to tell her that even when she isn’t in view or miles away, he just would know when something was wrong and respond accordingly He knew it drove her nuts at times but it was a biological imperative for him to keep her safe. He had let her down too often recently and felt the need to atone for those mistakes in judgement.

He had sidestepped love so many times in his life until she had blocked his path with her intelligence, strength and endless capacity to challenge, love and care for everyone around her. She, and she alone, had given him hope when everyone had abandoned him to his despair. Oliver was learning to not let fear stop him from reaching towards her in order to meet her halfway.

The drive to their getaway, once coffee and breakfast were in hand, went smoothly but the curiousity was making him twitchy. He was out of his element when it came to being surprised. It pushed him to trust her in a way that felt foreign and strange. He was so used to being in control of how he entered new surroundings as the Green Arrow that sometimes he forgot to switch off that part of himself.

When he turned off the main highway and saw that they were entering the oldest forest in the state, he felt a growing sense of wonder and awe. Not just for the cedars, pine and hemlock, but for her. With each passing tree and the dimming of the mid-morning light, his thoughts drifted upward towards the canopy high above. He loved the forest and was sure to love wherever it was that she had found for them. Her hand on his thigh brought his attention snapping back to confines of her Mini.

Chancing a glance in her direction, he saw a tiny smile cross over her lips and shook his head. Every now and then, she would do something to surprise him. He was never sure if her love alone would save him, but it had made him infinitely richer simply by its existence. He hoped he would never have to learn how to be without her ever again.

As they cleared the cathedral of trees, the cottage seemed to fade into view. The sky above was a dark, mottled grey, streaked with veins of blue and purple, but the cottage was the colour of the earth. Made from red cedar, it was a classic example of the A-frame architecture and it was spectacular. He sat for a moment after stopping the car, Felicity’s hand on his thigh now forgotten, and simply stared at it.

It was perfect. He could see, as naturally as it was to breathe, a home. One that they would share for the rest of their lives. The sudden urge to reach out and grab onto her, onto love, and never let go. A smile spread across his face even as the sky flashed with lightning and the thunder rumbled high overhead and the clouds let go of the rain they carried.

In the deluge, he could think of only one thing and that was getting inside to explore. Felicity agreed to run for the door and he would grab their bags and meet her there. He was still deeply impressed with her having called ahead and stocking the fridge for their time there. He just hoped he could convince her not to cook.

Oliver moved fast, getting the bags and running up the stairs in what Barry would have called, ‘a flash’. He turned around expecting to see Felicity running up behind him. Instead, he saw her laying flat on the ground, the car door open above her. She wasn’t moving and for just a moment, the world tilted to a dangerous angle, threatening to spill him off the edge of the earth.

A blast of images flew past him. One after another images of the night she was shot by Darhk’s men. How she lay so limp and still in his arms, how her blood ran redder than any he had ever seen through his fingers, soaking through his clothes and the laboured breathing that told him her injuries were more serious than they looked. He saw her life flash before his eyes even though he could see she was breathing and it was most likely that it was the pain from the nerves in her legs that had knocked her out.

Scooping her up, ignoring how featherlight she was for the moment, Oliver moved her to the bench next to the front door and encouraged her to come back to consciousness, to join him in the present moment. She responded quickly and within a minute they were inside and she was resting on the floor while he went about getting their bags inside and finding the bathroom so she could clean up and change.

He paused in the hallway by the kitchen and braced himself with by holding onto the walls. THe trauma of that night had wrapped itself around his mind and squeezed tight. Neither of them would ever forget it or the events that unraveled from the series of acts of violence Darhk unleashed in a fury of world ending attacks. But this, her physical trauma and healing, were breaking him one memory at a time.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he centred himself and rejoined her in the kitchen. Her colour was better and she insisted she was able to stand and walk on her own but he ignored her. As gently as he could, he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He could feel her breath on his neck and it sent shivers of desire coursing through his body. The need to show her his devotion was almost overpowering. He settled for the warmth of her body pressed against him and hoped that her legs could hold her up when he set her down.

Insisting she could handle cleaning up on her own, she pushed him out the door to go get her bag and he heard the water being turned on in the shower. Before he left her, he paused to kiss her. Just a simple kiss, meant to convey trust and encouragement. But he could have spent the rest of his days in that kiss. It was soft, gentle and full of the kind of love and heat that simmered between them day after day, never dimming or growing stale. It was perfect.

Smiling to himself, he wandered out to look at the cottage and went to start the fire and figure out where everything was in the cabin. It was enormous, filled with light, and welcoming in a way that neither the loft or his hotel suite were. The tv, an enormous flat screen beside the wood burning fireplace, was one he would be watching later and he admired it as he laid the fire.

He had to stop himself from fidgeting. On his way to the bathroom, he paused to look into the master bedroom. It wasn’t large but it overlooked the forest at the very back of the cabin. That is when he spotted the hot tub. It was at the edge of the enormous deck and under cover of only the sky. Oliver shook his head and chuckled. Hot tubs, pools, grottos or bathtubs, it didn’t matter, they were magnets for water.

The shower was still running so he quickly made his way back to the kitchen to looked in the fridge and see what she had ordered to stock the kitchen. On his way back down the hallway, he spotted a set of double doors with stained glass windows set in them. Out of curiosity, he opened them and was presented with a small room that held the largest copper tub he had ever seen. He stood and gaped at it and the room and how the light streaming in reflected off of the white walls and gleaming patina that had settled onto the outside of the tub. He immediately saw both of them in it and smiled. They always found time to bathe together and this trip would be no different.

With a chuckle, he went on and inspected the fridge and the first thing he saw was fresh cinnamon roll dough. Memories of Annetta’s treat came back to him and he knew immediately what they were having for lunch. Checking the instructions, he set the oven temperature and timer and then went in search of Felicity.

Slipping quietly into the steam filled bathroom, Oliver collected her wet and dirty clothes and put them on top of the washer in the laundry room that opened off of the bathroom. She hadn’t called to him or acknowledge him in any way but he wondered if she was aware of him sitting on the small chair by the door but he wasn’t completely comfortable leaving her on her own just yet.

When she asked for a towel, he chuckled. Somehow, she always knew where he was even if he was attempting to be careful and quiet. Threatening him with her cooking, she chased him out of the bathroom so she could get dressed in peace and he went back to put the cinnamon rolls in the oven. She said she was going to be quick but he knew better. If he was right, their lunch would be ready before she rejoined him.

He wasn’t prepared for what she was wearing when she came out into the main room. He had seen her wear flannel pajamas, sweat pants, oversized sweatshirts and fuzzy slippers but never a thick wool sweater and longjohns. Trying not to laugh, he teased her gently and got their lunch out of the oven. Felicity had thought of literally everything, right down to his favourite kind of butter and coffee.

Oliver watched her walk around the large room, running her hands over the stone in the fireplace and looking up at the ceiling towards the skylights. The light, soft and white, illuminated her from all angles. She was luminous in the storm’s shadows, her eyes flashing a deeper blue and her hair reflecting like strands of spun gold.

When the storm finally unleashed itself, they made the best of it. They ate and talked and it took one gentle touch from her and the mention of flowers on his parent’s graves and he felt himself cartwheeling back through memories, long since shuttered, and the grip of sorrow wrap itself around his heart. He missed his mom and dad endlessly and would for the rest of his life. Her understanding of that, and the room she made for him to navigate that sorrow, were a comfort to him that he had yet to find the words to express.

When the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled through the trees and over the cabin, he set aside his desire to run away the calories, and she let him pick the movies. The fire was warm, and the tv was amazing. He felt a contentment that pushed the darkness and sorrow from his heart. He closed the door on his parents and turned his attention to the woman lying snuggled under the blanket with him. He was grateful she had taken off her oversized sweater because between their body heat and the fire, they were warm enough.

Halfway through the second movie, he realized that Felicity was asleep. She had grown so still in his arms, he failed to notice until he felt the push of her back against his chest as her breathing deepened. It was a well deserved nap after the rounds of pain she had been through. Oliver was worried what that pain could be the precursor for. The implant was experimental and there was a part of him that was terrified it would stop working, leaving her paralyzed again.

Little by little, Oliver became aware that she was silently crying. She started to shake in his arms and he felt it all the way down to his bones. He decided he needed to wake her up, she was beginning to spiral down into her nightmares and with the storm crashing around them, his own fears were beginning to surface.

Softly to start, he began to call to her. She was starting to thrash and claw at him, sending a cold vein of fear through his body. He wondered if Morpheus could help her. Something deep in her mind was slowly unraveling and if he was correct, she would need more help than he could ever offer her to walk through it unscathed.

Her first concern upon waking was for him as she worked through her confusion of where she was and what was the matter. He watched her face as she remembered where she was and, if was correct, who she was. His heart cracked along its healed seams when she told him about what she saw in her fevered sleep. Every memory of violence and pain, slightly twisted and out of focus, had pummeled her but still she was holding something back.

Oliver wanted her to open up and tell him but he couldn’t make that demand of her, not when he was so clearly holding onto his secrets with both hands. He instead tried to silence the voice in his head that was insistently trying to convince him it was too late. That eventually she would leave rather than face the monster he had walled up and left to rage in his dreams.

He knew he was overreacting but he felt a part of him kept circling back to the distance he felt pushing at them. The harder he tried to pull her to him, emotionally and physically, the firmer she held her ground. It wasn’t so much a wall she was putting up but rather an arm’s length that was growing harder and harder to understand. One minute she was so welcoming and loving and the next, her eyes would betray her and he’d watch her fly away from him, lost to the memory that was haunting her.

Right now, she was reaching out to him and pulling him close to her. He could see her fighting to not retreat from him and knew she was trying to distract him from her nightmare. If it brought her comfort, he was willing to let her. Her breath on his neck and lips against the skin below his shirt collar were more than a distraction, they were the gifts she gave freely and lovingly.

Once she had asked him to fight to live instead of fighting to the death against Ra’s. That one night, unbeknownst to her, she had given him the tools to feel alive. It was taking time for him to figure out just how to use them, but every moment with her helped him to see how they worked and the peace they could help him feel when in action.

They were headed into dangerous territory where a replay of the night before on the couch was looming over them. He felt his body begin to respond and was glad she insisted on a tour of the cabin. He was curious what her reaction would be upon seeing the both the tub and hot tub. She loved being in water with him just as much as he did with her. It started in the desert one long year ago and he smiled at the memory of it.

 

Unthinkingly, he made a comment that left him blushing up to the roots of his hair and she teased him mercilessly. The only way to silence her was to pick her up and frog march her down the hall to show her the rest of the cabin. Her laugh blew through him like a warm breeze and it was all he could do to not walk straight back to the bedroom and into bed but he resisted the urge. Sex with her was an adventure but there were days when it was an art form between them and today was going to be one of those days.

Instead, he listened to her amazement at seeing the rest of the cabin. Felicity reacted to the copper tub in the way he hoped. If they made it through dinner, they were having a bath together in it, under the stormy sky as it flashed lightning and the thunder rolled. Together, they made the storms that used to send him into the farthest corners of his mind something to celebrate and embrace. Oliver felt the safety and peace of her presence and repeated the silent vow that he would honour that gift. He was still lost in that thought when she turned around to face him.

Sometimes he forgot how relatively young they both were, in the grand scheme of things they were barely adults. She was the same age as he was when he returned from exile, something that would give him pause as out of all of them she was the wisest. She, and she alone, had been able to find the love within him that needed to be nurtured in the light. It was a struggle but one he was willing to work through if it meant moments like this where he see the golden flecks that swirled in the blue of her eyes when she smiled up at him.

Right now, with a smile that he hadn’t seen in a number of weeks, he listened to her tell him how lucky she was and caught her words in a kiss. There was a seed in the centre of the kiss that only needed a small amount of light to let it grow. It contained hope and joy and all the things life had to offer if they could just find a way to keep the darkness out.

Desire took over and he lifted her easily and carried her to the bed. They had done this so many times before that it was like coming home but it was never the same pathway or experience twice. Now, he chose to undress her, paying attention to every part of her, showing his devotion with every touch and kiss. She trembled, shivered and seemed more alive with each passing second.

He loved the small sounds she would make as he coaxed her passion to the surface, how her body pushed into his as if she could make him hurry with his devotion. OIiver deliberately slowed down and made her wait but it was the kiss they shared as they laid in the bed that awoke within him something he thought he could control. Looking back, it was the moment where everything changed but he didn’t understand it until it was almost too late.

Until then, he lost himself to her slippery skin, the silk heat of her and the way she tasted flowing over his tongue. He wasn’t letting her orgasm though, not yet. Felicity’s legs quivered next to his head, letting him know if she was close, and would deliberately stop and shift his attention to another part of her body.

He teased her with his fingers, tongue and mouth until he could feel her need for him in how she gripped his hair and gasped with every touch, hard or light. Oliver kept her hovering on the edge of ecstasy until he felt her body slowly give itself over to his touch. He wasn’t even sure if Felicity realized how her body betrayed her and allowed him to take complete control. It wasn’t sexy, it was beyond that, it was erotic, trusting and gentle. When he looked up and saw her watching him with unfocused eyes and a pink flush slowly creeping up her chest and neck, he thought he had never seen a woman so beautiful.

Making his way slowly back up her body wasn’t an option. Felicity pulled him up for a long, deep, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that let her taste his desire, the kind of kiss she smiled into as she sucked his bottom lip and pulled his tongue into her mouth. The air crackled around them and he felt the rush of static electricity across his skin as he stretched out on top of her, keeping the bulk of his weight on his elbows. When she took him firmly in hand, and stroked him until his heart started to pound in his chest, he felt her leg go around his waist and the silky heat of her body was all he could think about. As he felt the tension in her body slowly increase, he gave into his desire to be inside her, to feel her pulse and throb around him.

But he held himself in check. He waited for her to push him on, he waited for Felicity to make him move in time to her desire. There were days when they couldn’t wait, when desire ruled their movements and the sex was purely about need. But sometimes, like now, it was about so much more than that, it was an expression that words could not hope to do justice for and he would tease her that they made love like artists until she would roll her eyes and laugh at his romanticism.

Oliver kept his movements slow and deep, pressing his pelvis hard against hers until he felt her begin to rumble and quake around him. Distantly, he heard her gasp and call his name, like a benediction or prayer. Her orgasm was long and involved so much more than her body but it was also powerful and rattled his bones until he felt himself slowly coming undone.

With no encouragement from her, he rolled his hips slightly faster and found the tension that would spring up between their bodies, one filled with friction and heat, and he stopped trying to hold off the inevitable. Looking deep into her eyes it felt like she had called him by his true name and he belonged to her because of it. The vastness of his love for her terrified him but he was helpless to not show her at least a small part of it when they were locked, skin to skin.

Felicity was pressing her fingertips onto the smooth skin on his back, the skin between the lines carved into his skin, as though she were reading Braille and leaving her mark buried deeper than any scar. The heat in his pelvis, that internal, coiled heat he was trying so hard to keep reined in, slowly started to push out through his body. His lips found her neck and he murmured words of love to her as she held onto him with everything in her.

When her back arched off the bed, her body vibrating so intensely she changed the shape of the world around them, he joined her. His mind reached out for her and his heart followed. THey found each other, like they had in the vastness of their dreams, but he felt the push of her resistance even as she clawed at his body, exploding around him in an undulating, shuddering climax that triggered his own.

For just a moment, he retreated to place deep within his own heart that was filled with a silence that was both beauty and pain. He associated this space with love and all the power and hope that it offered but he held onto it, keeping it private and his for the time being. Felicity wasn’t ready to receive it as the gift he intended it to be.

One night he mused to her that he would love her until the moon deserted the sky, until the earth lay barren and dead in its endless dance through the solar system. She gave his life purpose and even if his heart should cease to beat before hers, their time together would stretch out across eternity.

She teased him but the next day, in the quiet of his hotel room, she had left a book on his nightstand. A book of poetry by Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, a 17th century nun who had lived in Mexico City. It was full of poems of love and devotion and written with a quiet, deft heart and mind now long since dead. Her inscription was simple and perfect.

_Oliver,_   
_Without you, I would have never known the beauty of a ghostly nebula hidden deep in the night sky. You somehow discovered how to channel the Divine and remind me of Sor Juana when you describe the stars we have dared to touch._

_Love,_   
_Felicity_

As he returned to himself, he found that she was softly crying. She said they were happy tears, born from true joy but he knew she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, that she was holding back more to protect herself then him. Her truth was her own and she would tell it in whatever time she needed, so he didn’t push.

_Not yet, he thought as he traced the damp pathways of her tears down her cheeks._   
_Not yet, he thought as she tenderly kissed him._   
_Not yet, he thought when she smiled and he remembered a night not too long ago where he held her hand and helped her on her way back to herself by telling her stories about how they would paint stars in the sky, but when..._

He watched as the veil fell between them and knew that today was not the day for her to speak her truth. Felicity suggested they use the hot tub and relax under the storm as it slowed down and shifted away from them. Oliver was more than happy to start it up, much to her surprise that he was already familiar with its remote control, and settled back into the exceedingly comfortable bed.

The cottage was so quiet, even with the thunder and rain, that he became unfocused and found himself staring at her back, at the pattern of pain, agony and survival that changed her without her consent. She had lectured him early on about how pity was not something she ever wanted to hear or see from him. All she wanted was to heal and reclaim her life as best she could and he was in awe of her determination and strength.

His unfocused gaze was why he missed the look that crossed Felicity’s face when she turned to look at him. In a flash, she was out of bed, in a robe and heading for the door while muttering about having a shower. It was the quick, clipped way she was speaking that gave him all the clues he needed. She was angry and he had no idea why.

In all his years away, Oliver had developed the ability to move fast, sometimes faster than he thought possible until he met Barry Allen. So in one lightning quick movement, he was out of bed and in front of her. He could feel her rage pouring off of her warm skin in waves. They hit him with force but he stood his ground in front of her, suddenly unafraid of the anger that had so recently taken root in her mind and heart. He might not be able to address those roots just yet but he was not going to let this new branch flourish.

It took a direct challenge from him, as they stood toe to toe in the bedroom doorway as lightning danced in the sky above them, for her to tell him why she was so angry. In a quiet voice, one filled with a tormented rage that was both about him but not, Felicity told him. She had mistaken the look on his face as one of pity and it had enraged her.

Watching the turmoil of her inner struggle cross her face in a series of tremors broke his heart. Oliver had never, and would never, pity her. He was in genuine awe of her on a daily basis. Her strength, intelligence, humour and compassion formed the glue that held him together on days when the darkness grew in power and sought to reach through cracks of his mind and take root.

Nothing about her was pitiable. Even when she was paralyzed, her determination was his guide for what she needed from him. Now he watched as sorrow and self loathing wrestled with her drive to survive and live for control. Every part of him was screaming out to do something, anything, but the way she was clenching her fists and biting her lip meant that whatever was needed had to come from within her.

Oliver felt helpless as he watched her but a small kernel of anger finally popped and he demanded that she look at him, to see he was telling her the truth. When she did, the pain in her eyes which she tried so hard to hide from him spoke volumes that she could not yet voice. Even after he had shown her in the most intimate and loving way that he loved her, body and soul, she had let a shred of doubt take root in her heart as a way to hold on to a guilt so terrible and vicious, it had almost destroyed her.

He was terrified of what that could mean but he held that in check and instead reached out to her, coaxed her back to the moment. She was listing, on her way to capsizing and he needed to get her back to herself, to him, anyway that he could. For a moment, they stood a few inches apart, taking the other in as the light grew dimmer and she reminded him of the arguments they used to have back when they first met, how they stood just like this, each one refusing to back down.

He remembered those days well, how she pushed him to be better and he challenged her to let him be who he thought he was. Looking back now, he was sure of only two things: that he loved her beyond reason and that a life with her would be the best and bravest thing he would or could ever do. He felt that what they were creating together would have a life longer than the footsteps left by the astronauts who landed on the moon.

He kissed her gently and reassured her, with her lovely, storm lit face cradled gently between his large, scarred hands, that together they would find their way through this because of the strength of who they were, for each other and on their own. He watched her eyes grow bright and a smile cross her face as she realized the full weight of his words, that he believed in her even now.

The next kiss he gave her was full of all the love, longing, and desire that simmered constantly under his skin. He had forgotten that he was naked until her lips parted and he felt her warm, velvety tongue dance around his own. A shiver ran over his body when she hummed in contentment but with a gentle push, he pulled away and lead her to the shower.

She was still distant so he used his hands to wash her clean, to warm her skin and gently massage her body as a way to keep her present with him. It was a ritual of love and tenderness that had become part of their daily and nightly routine. Some showers were longer than others and although this one might be a shorter version, it served its purpose. By the end of it, she was no longer stuck in her inner world of hurt and grief, when she looked at him, her eyes were clear and bright. Felicity focused on him with true sincerity and quiet love. Her walls were still there but he was determined to find the tiny cracks and crevices until she let him in and freely shared her secret grief.

He was reminded of a short passage from the book she had given him:

_The page discreetly, will relate_   
_how, the moment it was read,_   
_I tore your secret into shreds_   
_that shreds not be the secret’s fate._   
_And something more, inviolate,_   
_I swallowed what you had confessed,_   
_the tiny fragments of your note,_   
_to guard the secret that you wrote_   
_and honour thus your confidence, lest_   
_even one scrap escape my breast.(1)_

If only he could convince her that this was how he would hold her story. That she would be safe in the telling and he would keep her words private, held only between them. It dawned on him that maybe the best way to show her that her words and story would be safe with him would be to move her, as gently as he could, through the violence of his past. Through the pain of memories he held at a distance and the despair of regret and guilt that lived deep within him and had, for a time, formed the foundation of his identity.

They were never going to be the same as they were before Darhk or Havenrock or even Ra’s and, in Oliver’s mind, that was more than ok. Their lives were full, they had one another, their purposes, different but complementary, and while things weren’t perfect that is what made everything so worthwhile. After dinner, when the sun was set and they were settled on that enormous couch, he would start his tale.

Now, he hurried out to the kitchen to start dinner. Felicity kept lobbing hints that she was going to cook for him one day and that was something that could never happen until he got her some lessons. He had never seen anyone burn water or make an omelette so salty, he had to drink six glasses of water to ease the pain in his mouth and prevent dehydration.

Luckily, she was more intent on checking out the wine fridge and flipping through the records next to the very old but functioning record player in the living room. She had an eerie way of selecting just the right kind of music to suit the moment and mood and she did not disappoint. When the smooth, dulcet tones of Billie Holiday came floating through the cottage, he smiled. _Autumn in New York_ was the perfect record to put on to accompany him as he prepared their evening meal.

 

II

“Oliver,” Felicity said with a quiet burp, “That was amazing.”  
“You planned a good menu,” he said as he cleared their plates off of the dining room table, “You do love my Chicken Cordon Bleu.”  
“Oh do I!” she exclaimed.  
“I thought you were going to lick-”  
“Oliver, don’t you dare...”  
“Your -”  
“...say it.”  
“Plate,” he finished bravely.  
“I cannot believe you.”  
“You should see your face!” he laughed.  
“I’m thinking there will be no more licking of anything this weekend,” she muttered not so quietly.  
“Felicity Megan Smoak,” he said disapprovingly as he came around the kitchen counter, “Such language from one so young.”  
“Young?” she laughed.

Smiling at her, he took her hands in his and pulled her into his arms and began to slowly dance her through the large open space. Billie Holiday had given way to what he thought was the Glenn Miller Band from the 1940’s. Regardless, it was slow and melodic and perfect for a slow waltz from kitchen to living room and back again. The storm was now just occasional rumbles of thunder far in the distance and soft flashes of lightning that danced across the ceiling. The early evening light, plus occasional lightning flashes, added to the ambience they had created in the cottage.

He’d never danced like this with anyone. It was intimate, gentle, and his heart felt full to overflowing with each small, swaying step. Felicity had rested her head on his chest, above his heart, moulded her body to his and gently kept time by tapping her fingers on his back. In the gathering true dark of night, he couldn’t think of a better way to draw their first night away to a close.

Deliberately, he moved them towards the couch and as gracefully as he could, he managed to get them both seated in an untangled mess. He had relaid the fire before dinner, so it was no longer a roaring blaze but was comfortable, warm and would see them through the night. He’d always loved fireplaces and open fires but none as much as he loved them with Felicity.

“Well, that was delightfully graceful and romantic,” she teased lightly.  
“It was. I am really just that good,” he mused as she groaned at his faux egotism.  
“What should we do tonight? It’s getting dark out so maybe we could sneak in a hot tub later?” she asked as she stretched out beside him.  
“We need to wait at least an hour after that meal,” he yawned.  
“You know that’s an Old Wive’s tale,” she said in a sleepy voice.  
“Maybe but right now it sounds like a good idea,” he managed to mumble before sliding effortlessly into a dead sleep brought on by rich food and one glass too many of a very good Pinot Blanc.

_He felt like he was swimming in gelatin. He couldn’t find his footing, every time he took a step, he slipped sideways, nothing moved right and from somewhere far away someone was screaming. He recognized the scream. It was the man in the forest._

_Oliver stopped moving and listened. He had developed the ability to open his ears and find sound, find a single voice in the crowd or locate where the bodies were in a silent night. The Bratva has taught him how to feel for sound when hunting or searching out his target. It was an ability that in and of itself was an extension of all the tools he had learned on his way to becoming the Green Arrow._

_It was as familiar as breathing._

_He loved the way it felt like a second skin, one that he wore not just as armor but as a warning to others. Fear was the one thing he knew how to use to his advantage and use it he did. Sometimes he was reckless and wound up the victim of his own viciousness, but he had become so adept at using his strength and fearlessness that he was able to control the outcome._

_But now, inside his own head, he could feel that control slipping away. The screaming man, whom he had left hanging from his wrists from a tree in the middle of a Siberian forest so many years ago, continued to howl in agony off in the far distance. Every note of his scream told the tale of his torture and death. He would trail off to take a deep breath and then begin to scream again._

_Oliver turned away from the sound and searched his environment, trying to create something else from his memory that was more peaceful. Slowly, he saw that he was back in the home he shared with Felicity in Ivy Town. The patio doors were open and he could hear the soft chirps of birds and the sound of the wind through the leaves in the trees that surrounded their yard._

_He could smell lilacs and roses on the warm breeze. They had pruned both bushes the first weekend in the house. The rose bush had almost overgrown the patio doors and when it went into bloom, the flowers were a soft pink and the blooms lasted for days when cut for a bouquet. Oliver got up and crossed to the garden doors and remembered their first night in their new home._

_Felicity had unpacked the stereo and managed to find a station that played music from the 1940’s and 50’s. He had laughed as she sung along to songs his grandparents used to listen to but when a slow waltz came on, he had pulled her into a slow dance that took them through the dimly lit rooms until they wound up in front of the garden doors._

_Now, as he stood watching the sheer curtains she had put up wave and billow in the midday breeze, he remembered the warmth of her body where it curved to fit to his, the gentle smell of her perfume created just for her in Bali, and the way his hand fit so perfectly in the small of her back. He couldn’t remember the song but it didn’t matter. The mere thought of her swaying in step with him through their then empty home was enough. It would always be enough._

_Oliver smiled to himself and wondered why they didn’t slow_ _dance together more often. With her it wasn’t like a high school dance, with two left feet and fumbling hands on his dance partner’s back, searching for permission to find skin, soft and forbidden, under silky fabric. It wasn’t like slow dances at the many clubs he went to as a college student. There the dances were sexually charged and not so much moving to the music as simulated sex in front of strangers._

_With Felicity dancing was different. He didn’t have to worry about finding the rhythm of the song or worry about what the dance was for. It was for them. It was for her. They would find the way to move through the music, through each other, and move gently through the spaces around them. Gliding over carpet, linoleum, wood or ceramic tile floors, never stumbling, never hesitating. The memories buffered him on the hardest of days, they buoyed him when he was sinking into regret. He knew he would never dance with anyone else but her for the rest of his life._

_It was then that he felt the air crackle around him. From the corner of his eyes he saw the air glimmer and fold in on itself and then a small but very bright, white light winked and grew, swirling and pulsing as though alive. Oliver blinked and there before him was Morpheus._

_For a moment, Morpheus stood and regarded him with a look of curiousity. He was taking Oliver’s measure or at least that is what Oliver thought based on what he could read of Morpheus’s face. His eyes were swirls of galaxies and starlight so it was impossible to get a true read._

_“That was a lovely memory you pulled up, Oliver,” Dream said in his resonant, ancient voice._   
_“It is a touchstone memory. When I need to feel human, I reach for it,” Oliver said quietly as he listened to the song fade away and felt everything grow still._

_Somewhere, far away, the man was screaming. Oliver felt a flash of panic. He wasn’t ready to go to that part of his mind yet. Not in any kind of detail or depth. Maybe he could convince Morpheus to show him another hidden room or hallway to explore. He had many and the Siberian forest was only one._

_“Shall we?” invited Morpheus as he opened a door out of the air beside him._   
_“Where are we going?” Oliver asked hesitantly._   
_“Not to the man in the woods.”_

_Oliver let out a breath of relief and nodded. Before he could step towards the door, in true dream fashion, it grew in size to meet him. He stepped from a home that he had had every intention of filling with love and memories with Felicity and into a dank, fetid basement. One he knew well and felt a cold finger of fear and revulsion work its way down his back._

_This was not a good place._

_“You saw that I was about to arrive,” Dream observed._   
_“Just the glimmer out of the corner of my eye,” Oliver admitted._   
_“No one but my brothers and sisters have ever sensed me about to arrive.”_   
_“So what does that say about me?”_   
_“I am not sure, Oliver, but I suspect we will find out.”_   
_“Why did you bring me here?”_   
_“Because if you are going to start your tale of being in the Bratva with Felicity, you need to be able to see it first.”_   
_“So we begin with the first death?”_   
_“Yes.”_

_Oliver stood for a moment and let the memory come to him. He felt the shadows come alive, turn into ghosts of men long since dead, and they pushed through and past him. He smelled the stink of fear, blood and piss. Men who wet themselves in fear only to be thrown into a ring to fight to death. But there were other men, men like Oliver, who saw their chance and took it. He remembered only thinking one moment to the next and never beyond the day he was in._

_The stink of this basement had clung to him for a very long time. He watched his time play out in front of his eyes. His younger self was brutalizing a man twice his size with ease. He felt Dream watching him, evaluating but not judging. Not even when he broke the man’s neck._

_“What am I supposed to learn here?” Oliver asked, his voice tight with the agony of remembering._   
_“Learn? Nothing. You learned everything you needed to from this basement.”_   
_“Then why here?” he asked again._   
_“You need to be ready.”_   
_“Morpheus, that doesn’t mean anything,” Oliver exclaimed in exasperation._   
_“Put yourself in Felicity’s place. You need to be ready.”_

_Oliver stilled his body. It was something he had learned to do in another part of this world but it still served him well. If he was going to draw out of Felicity the anguish she had buried so deep in her heart that it had left a trench around it, he had to be ready for what that could mean to her and them. Digging deep into a place where all his guilt and self-hatred had firmly taken root. This place. This cold and distant place was where he descended into the madness of rage._

_Morpheus reached out and touched his arm, pulling him back to the centre of his dream. Gone was the stench of the basement and in its place was the welcoming scent of lilac and roses. They had returned to Ivy Town for whatever was to come next._

_“This is a place of great joy but not truth,” Morpheus mused._   
_“We were happy here,” Oliver said with a hint of mourning around the edges of his words._   
_“You were but you were not...whole.”_   
_“We...I could have learned to be.”_   
_“Your nightmares and dreams tell me otherwise.”_

_Oliver crossed to the open garden doors and stepped out onto the patio. He had loved this quiet space. In the short time they had been in the house, they had entertained neighbours here, had romantic dates where he would cook something new for her, and they would end those nights dancing under the stars._

_He thought about their garden back in Star City and the possibilities to recreate those intimate moments under the stars with soft music playing in the background. He felt a tight squeeze around his heart and sat down on the chair closest to him. Now he felt fear and he didn’t understand why right away._

_Until he heard the man screaming in agony._

_“In order to free yourself of that man, you have to open the door to the room he occupies in your mind. You need to face it here first.”_   
_“It...it is the worst thing I have ever done,” Oliver said sadly._   
_“Perhaps, but it is something you cannot keep in your mind for much longer. He erupts when you are deeply asleep. You are the one person I monitor during those times.”_   
_“That bad?” Oliver asked wryly._   
_“Yes, Oliver. That bad.”_

_Oliver sat in silence and evaluated whether or not it was time to dive in and face the horror he had run back to Lian Yu to escape. With Morpheus here maybe it was safe to walk to the door and open it._

_The wailing was growing louder and Oliver could feel Morpheus watching him carefully. He knew that his dreamspace was his to control but still he hesitated. He knew he could conjure up the door in his parent’s home, the one he had hid the man behind, but he was still unsure if it was a good idea._

_Getting up from the patio table, Oliver blinked and was in front of his childhood bedroom. The screaming man was in the middle of his death throes, soon to restart in fresh horror and agony. The trauma of that one day haunted every corner of his being._

_Taking a deep breath, Oliver opened the door and stepped back through time and space and into a Taiga forest, deep in the middle of Siberia. Underneath the damp, fetid smell of the forest, wet from a late summer rain, was the bright copper scent of blood._

_“пожалуйста(2). пожалуйста...больше не надо(3)...,” the man sobbed from somewhere close by._

_There was no answer in return. Oliver listened closely, turning towards the voice in an attempt to locate where he was. The wind was rustling the leaves high above and caused the tall trees to sway and creak._

_This was a haunted place._

_“Are you sure?” Morpheus_ _asked from above Oliver’s head._  
 _“You can...levitate?”_  
 _“I am not bound by earthly laws of physics,” Morpheus smiled._  
 _“It’s mildly disconcerting but yes, I think I am ready.”_

_All Morpheus did was point. Oliver followed the direction of his arm and spotted the man hanging from his wrists from a tree only 20 yards away. His back had been flayed in such a way that it appeared that he had wings of flesh hanging over his shoulders._

_The world turned sideways and Oliver fell the ground. He wanted to leave the dream but felt tied to it and waited to see what would come next._

_“Oliver? You need to get up.”_   
_“I can’t…”_   
_“You must.”_

_Pushing himself up, Oliver staggered to his feet. The man had grown quiet and was watching him carefully through hooded eyes. He was focused solely on Oliver and what he might or might not do as his blood ran in rivulets down his body and dripped to the forest floor._

_“I can never tell Felicity about this,” Oliver said softly as he stared the broken man in the eyes, knowing that he had slaughtered him as a rite of passage._   
_“You will have to and you will have to bear the fall out, whatever that may be,” Morpheus stated._   
_“Why? Why does it have to be this?” Oliver asked in despair._   
_“Havenrock,” was all Morpheus said._

The man in the tree had begun to quietly weep. His torture was only just beginning but Oliver remembered the tears that had flowed right before he carved out the man’s eyes. He felt bile rising in his throat and searched blindly for someplace to be sick out of Morpheus’s sight. He loathed throwing up but the urge was so great, the guilt so rooted and relentless, that he forgot he was in a dream.

_In his confusion and horror, Oliver failed to see Morpheus reach out one long, pale arm followed by the gentle pressure of his hand on his head. Everything mercifully faded to black and Oliver tumbled down into a well of pure sleep._

He awoke with a gasp and waited, trying to figure out where he was and whether or not he was going to throw up. His stomach was roiling, he was panting for breath and his skin felt cold and clammy. If he had to tell Felicity the story of the man in the woods, it would destroy them both but it wasn’t any worse than the horror in her mind at her own actions and the impact of them on Havenrock.

Felicity stirred beside him, mumbling something about the storm but settled back into the deep sleep of the satiated. Careful not to disrupt her rest, Oliver got up and made his way out onto the deck, seeking fresh air and the sounds of nature. He was rewarded with both as the sound of the ocean filtered through the trees and the wind, now calm, blew steadily from the shore just hidden out of sight by ferns and cedars.

Walking around the perimeter of the cottage, Oliver was impressed by its size and the privacy of the land it was on. Any other time and he would consider this as a place to live permanently. It was close to the city but far enough away to offer some security and a genuine sense of peace.

With a sigh, he sat down on the steps in front of the master bedroom. The moon was peeking out from behind the clouds and he could smell the salt of the ocean and the earthy smell of the forest. But what he really appreciated was the quiet. It surrounded him and he was grateful for every moment that went by where he heard only the wave-like motion of the leaves in the wind and the continuous sound of the waves bubbling over the sand and rocks.

No one was screaming. No one was bleeding out of a body carved up like meat. The air was warm and the rain had washed everything clean. Oliver lost his focus for an instant and was transported back in time to touch briefly on the memory that was now roaming free in his mind. Lowering his head, he took a deep, shuddering breath, focused on creaking of the swaying trees and warm breeze. For late fall, the temperature outside was perfect.

“Hey,” came Felicity’s soft voice from behind him, “Are you ok?”  
“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air,” he said turning towards her and reaching out his hand, which she accepted.  
“It is lovely out,” she sighed as she settled down next to him.  
“It is,” he agreed as he kissed the top of her head.  
“So what drove you out here for real?”

Oliver had to chuckle. He should know better than to think a claim of seeking fresh air would be answer enough for her.

“Now why do you ask that?” he deflected.  
“Oliver,” she said in a serious voice as she angled to look up at him, “I can feel how tense you are. Your body is coiled like a spring.”  
“I had an unsettling dream,” he admitted, “It woke me up and I just needed a bit of fresh air to clear my mind.”  
“That’s it?” she asked, staring at him intently.  
“Yes,” he smiled gently, leaning down to press his forehead against hers.  
“You can tell me about it, you know,” she said softly.  
“I know.”

Felicity moved so that she could lay her head on his shoulder and together they sat and listened to the wind in the trees. Oliver felt all the tension drain away and he closed his eyes to listen to the rise and fall of the waves and the whisper of the wind. The storm had blown over and the night was fresh and slowly clearing of all cloud cover.

“Thank you for this, Felicity.”  
“For what?”  
“This. This weekend.”  
“We deserve it.”  
“Hot tub time?”  
“Oh yes!’ she exclaimed with a happy sigh, “I think that is a wonderful idea.”  
“You go get some of those big candles in the dining room and I’ll start it up,” he said as he got up.  
“The moon is almost full, do you think we need candles?” she asked as she stood up and wrapped him in a hug.  
“Maybe, maybe not,” he said softly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by her ability to know just what he needed. A hug from her shored up his defences and lent him courage and strength. Such a small thing, so freely given, but it made him feel smaller than he was and protected. She had sheltered him from more storms than he could count and now was his time to rise up and provide for her the space to truly grieve and heal.  
“I’ll get them anyways. I do love candlelight,” she said with a chuckle and left him to head back inside.

Oliver turned on the hot tub, set the temperature and headed into the bedroom to undress. They didn’t bring any bathing suits with them but they had been naked in tubs together before, inside and out, and Felicity was remarkably comfortable in the nude with him. Grabbing his robe, he slipped it on and grabbed two large, fluffy towels.

“Hey, Felicity!” he called out, “I’ll meet you in the tub!”  
“Ok!” she called back from somewhere deep in the cottage, “I’ll be out in a minute!”

Stepping out in the cool night, Oliver took the cover off of the hot tub, took off his robe and stepped into the effervescent hot water. He could feel it bubbling around his body as he found the right place to sit and waited for Felicity.

The stars were out and without the light pollution of the city, he was sure they were casting shadows all around him. It felt like maybe the tide had turned weatherwise and they would be able to go down to the beach for a walk in the morning. Undoubtedly he would be up at dawn and able to go for a run long before she was awake, so he planned to head down to it to find a nice spot for a picnic.

“Hey stranger,” she said with a small chuckle, “how’s the water?”  
“Perfect,” he sighed, “Need a hand getting in?”  
“Nope, just let me light one or two of these candles and I’ll be right in.”

Oliver sat back and watched her. Her hair was in a low, messy bun and her glasses were off. The moonlight, cool and blue, only enhanced how lovely she was and when she stepped out of her robe, his heart stuttered in his chest. She was radiantly beautiful and completely unaware of how graceful she truly was.

“Oh this water is perfect,” she agreed as she crossed over to his side of the tub.  
“Felicity,” he said in a quiet voice, “Have I told you today that I love you?”  
“Many times.”  
“Oh good, so the quota is met?”  
“Not even close!” she laughed as she reclined back so she could see the sky, “Wow...the stars are putting on a show…”  
“Just for us.”  
“Some nights it feels like that,” she mused, “Oliver...what was your dream about?”

Oliver cast a sideways glance at her. She was staring up at the stars but was clearly waiting for him to answer her. He couldn’t. The words weren’t there yet and he knew he would do more damage to them both if he tried to explain it to her now but he wasn’t going to outright lie.

“It was nothing, Felicity, it was just...unsettling.”  
“Ok,” she said unconvinced.  
“Why so curious about my dreams?”  
“Because we both are haunted by what’s trapped inside our minds and maybe it’s time to start talking about that.”

Oliver turned to look at her. She had turned to face him and was staring intently to see what his reaction would be. The water swirled around her, steam rising from its surface, and her eyes were a dark, cobalt blue in the moonlight. He smiled and reached out to trace the curve of her cheek.  
Before he could stop himself, he started to speak.

“It was about my time in Russia. The early days when I hadn’t found Kovar but Anatoli was there to guide me through the initiation into the Bratva,” he said somewhat truthfully.  
“You’ve never really talked about that time in your life.”  
“It...it wasn’t a good time,” he said evasively.  
“Can I ask you something?” she asked almost shyly.  
“Ok,” he said apprehensively.  
“Your back. How did you get the burns on your back?”

Oliver sat in silence and contemplated the question and her insistence suddenly in asking about Russia. He hoped Morpheus wasn’t prompting her curiousity but it felt different than that, something else was driving her to know and he suspected it had everything to do with her own wounds.

Perfection is what he saw when he looked at her but what reached the darkest corners of his heart and mind was the same thing reflected back at him through her eyes just now. Some days were harder than others, but in the end she was more than enough or what he felt he deserved but perfect she was and when he witnessed the love and hope shining through her, he felt the closest thing to peace as he had ever felt.

“When I went to Russia, it was initially for revenge. Kovar was an evil, evil man. He needed to be stopped and I couldn’t do that unless I joined the Bratva. It wasn’t an easy thing to do or be part of but I persevered. I had a promise to keep and this was the way to do it,” he continued in one big rush, “but once I was in, it wasn’t smooth sailing.”  
“So someone did that to you...in the Bratva.”  
“Yes, someone who should have known better,” he said darkly.

Felicity was watching him with a growing apprehension but it was too late to stop. The story he was telling was leading them to a place he wasn’t sure either of them were ready for but once begun, the story had to be completed.

“One of the things that happened was I became the favourite son, so to speak. I was given responsibilities and a small team of men who would and could kill on command. I made a few people unhappy,” he chuckled ruefully.  
“What happened, Oliver.”  
“A man came for my title and position,” he said directly, “he attacked me, killed most of my men and then tortured me, looking for information on how to take down Kovar.”

Oliver paused and looked directly at her. She wasn’t pulling away or closing herself off, so he pushed forward and described the way the man had tortured him. How he was beaten over the course of four days. How he had dug deep and found the will to live. How on the last day, before Anatoli’s men had found him, he was burned with a blowtorch.

“I almost died from the infection, it was the doctors in the Bratva that saved my life” Oliver said as he ran out of the willingness to talk about the incident.  
“You were dreaming about that earlier? The torture?” she asked.  
“Yeah, sometimes those memories come loose and show themselves to me,” he said feeling a sudden sadness that burrowed deep down into him. He could feel a slow burning panic beginning in his chest as he thought about where that memory ended. Distantly, he thought he could hear a man wailing in agony from the forest outside their small circle of candlelight.  
“What else?” she coaxed.  
“Felicity...I...I really don’t want to talk about this.”  
“You talk about it in your sleep. Almost every night, Oliver. I’ve listened to you cry, yell and speak in Russian and Mandarin,” she said in a sad, reflective voice.  
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I had hoped those outbursts had subsided.”  
“Oliver,” she said earnestly, pushing herself across the tub so that she was in front of him, the tub as deep enough that she could stand and the water came up to just above her breasts, “Never apologize for that but...you can talk to me.”

Oliver took a moment to take her in. Half of her was illuminated by the moonlight, silvery and full of the starlight, and the other half of her was bathed in the golden light of the candles and warm light from the cabin. The seam of combined light that ran down the centre of her was alive with motion. Everytime she moved, the light shifted and changed colour. He was astounded by how light danced over her skin and loved her with an intensity that threatened to burn him alive from the inside out.

“And you can always talk to me,” he said softly.  
“I do talk to you,” she said somewhat stiffly as she moved away from him just a fraction of an inch.  
“Not about what’s in here,” he said as he reached across the difference to gently touch her forehead.  
“Oliver…,” she said in a quiet voice full of misery and hope, “One day.”  
“Well, in the spirit of cooperation, I did just tell you about my back so fair exchange…”  
“Nice try,” she smiled.  
“Quid pro quo, Smoak,” he chuckled.  
“I said one day, Oliver. You know I process things...differently,” she said in a tone that told him he was about to get a warning but he persisted.  
“Felicity, I listen to you cry at night, too.”  
“I know,” she said sadly.  
“You can’t carry the grief alone,” he said insistently.  
“Oliver...please don’t push.”

With that rebuke, he sat back and watched the dance of light and time play over her. He could see the conflict in her eyes. She wanted to know about his past, all the dark corners and events that connected to the scars on his body but those same wounds were nothing compared to the carnage he left in their wake.

The air around them was supercharged with tension and something that felt like sorrow. He knew they needed to get everything out in the open, to be completely vulnerable and share it all no matter the consequences. It was what she meant when she said partnership and inclusion. Oliver needed her to know but at the moment he was too terrified to say the words for her to hear.

Oliver reached out to her, hoping she would take his hand and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she did. Lacing their fingers together, Felicity sat and looked at his hand and ran her fingers gently over the scars on his knuckles. She did it reflexively. He wasn’t sure she even knew when she did it half the time.

“I feel like we are going to fight about this,” she said ruefully, “It feels prickly.”  
“If we fight, we fight,” he said with a shrug, “making up has its advantages.”  
“Why Oliver Jonas Queen…”  
“What? The make up sex is amazing!”

Felicity laughed and pushed herself off the opposite side of the hot tub and came to rest straddling his lap. Her skin glistened and glowed in the mix of light all around them. Smiling, he ran his hands through her hair, pulling out hair elastic so that her hair fell down around her shoulders.

“I love your hair like this,” he murmured, feeling slightly hypnotized by her closeness, “I love how wavy it is when you just let it dry on its own.”  
“It feels messy to me.”  
“It’s beautiful.”

Felicity smiled but stayed a few inches away. The current in the water kept her body in motion, moving in a delicate rhythm against his body. Oliver was intensely aware of her, her skin, her breath and gaze. His body began to stir the longer she remained where she was and he watched her eyes slowly dilate and flush rise up her neck.

Neither one of them made any move to touch the other, they let the water move them where it wanted to as they remained locked in an intimate gaze. Oliver wanted to touch her, to pull her into a long, desperate kiss, to wrap her in his arms and pull her as close to him as he possibly could, but he remained motionless. She had cast a spell he was loath to break.

Before he could move towards her, a fresh volley of thunder rolled over the trees and bright flash of lightning lit the entire area up. Looking up, they both started to laugh. While they were challenging each other in the gentlest way possible, the sky had faded to black as storm clouds had pushed in on the back of the ocean’s breeze.

“We should probably head in,” she mused, “I am starting to prune.”  
“Well, we can’t have that,” Oliver said in agreement.

In one graceful movement, Oliver wrapped his arms around her and stood up. He easily stepped out of the hot tub and set her down. He watched her shiver and quickly wrapped her in one of the large towels, rubbing her arms and back to warm her up.

“I’ll grab the candles and you turn it off?” she asked in a husky, low voice.  
“Mmhmm,” he hummed low in his throat, keenly aware of the heat radiating off of her body.  
“Oliver? I think you should hurry.”

A loud crack of thunder and bright bolt of lightning spurred them both to action. Felicity slipped her robe on over the towel, quickly blew out the candles and headed inside. Oliver, after wrapping his towel around his waist, pulled the cover of the tub and turned it off. Just as he was turning around to re-enter the cottage, the rain began to fall.

Large, heavy drops that gained power and speed as they fell so that they left small crates in the damp earth. He loved it when the rain came in like this. It wasn’t violent or aggressive. The drops were big but the water soft. It was a cleansing rain that came in before the fury of the storm washed over them.

Heading into the bedroom, Oliver turned the gas fireplace on to counter the chill in the air and went in search of Felicity.

“Felicity?” he called out, “Where did you go?”  
“I’m in the kitchen!”  
“You cannot possibly be hungry again,” he commented and immediately regretted it.  
“Oliver, one day you are going to wind up sleeping on the couch outside. Or in the alley behind the lair. In the dumpster.”  
“I really need to pay more attention to not being an idiot.”

He was rewarded with a slow clap from her as she stood behind the kitchen counter. She had been cutting up strawberries into a large bowl along with peaches and what looked like shaved coconut. A treat for later perhaps, one he suspected he would have to earn.

“So what’s it gonna be? Another movie? Maybe some reading?” Oliver asked as he snuck a strawberry from the bowl.  
“Movie! How about Harry Potter?”  
“Um…”  
“Oliver, you’ve read the books.”  
“I know but there are other movies I want to watch.”  
“We are not watching Bruce Lee again.”  
“How about that Keanu Reeves movie? John WIck.”  
“Ok, but tomorrow I pick. No lip from you either.”  
“Ok, ok,” he laughed.

Oliver turned around to head back to the bedroom to retrieve some clothes. His towel slipped off of his hips and in his haste to catch it before it hit the floor, he missed the look that flitted across Felicity’s face.

We are so used to late night hours that a movie at 11 pm is normal, he thought with a chuckle.

“So I changed my mind about the movie,” came Felicity’s soft voice from behind him.  
“Hmmm? How come? Are you feeling ok?” he asked as he reached for his sweatpants.  
“I’m feeling good...better than good,” she answered while she stopped him mid-reach.

With her other hand, she gently tugged his towel so that it came away and she dropped it to the floor. Oliver froze, his breath caught in his throat, and he waited. She couldn’t see his face in the dim light but he was smiling. He loved it when she did this, maybe more than what was coming next, the controlled seduction and knowledge of his body that she held in her fingertips that pulled him from one plateau to another.

“What are your intentions with me, Ms. Smoak?” he asked in his lowest, deepest voice.  
“To exhaust you,” she responded.

He felt her hands slowly travel down his chest and around to his back. He closed his eyes and followed the downward journey they were taking. She spent a few minutes tracing the seams of overlapping scar tissue with the gentlest of touches. He lowered his head so that their foreheads touched and breathed deep.

Gently, he ran his hands through her hair, marvelling its softness, and groaned as she firmly took hold of his cock. Her deft hands, warm and strong, coaxed him to hardness in no time. If truth be told, he didn’t need the encouragement but he enjoyed feeling her hot breath on his chest and the heat pouring off of her skin.

Looking up at him, she said, “Lie down.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled.

But lie down he did, and with great relief as his legs had begun to shake after how quickly she managed to stroke him erect. He watched in a combination of lust and longing as she let her robe drop to the floor. She looked otherworldly, a Goddess come to earth, and he wondered for the thousandth time how he ever got so luck as to win her favour.

Felicity took his face in her hands, tracing his lips with her thumbs, before kissing him with a growing intensity that left him breathless but hungry for more. The gentle sweep of her velvet tongue against his lips and he was lost to a whirlwind of desire.

She gently pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. His cock lay heavy and hard against his belly as she slowly rubbed up and down it in a serpentine movement. Their kiss grew desperate and messy the longer it went on. Felicity made small moans and sounds that traveled the length of him and he reflexively gripped her hips, feeling her strong thigh muscles moving with each slow thrust against him.

With a small push against his chest, she sat up and looked down at him. Her eyes travelled over the puckered scar tissue, burns and tattoos and she smiled.

“You are amazing,” she said with awe and love both in each measure in her voice.  
“How so?” he smiled.  
“You survived.”

With that she kissed him again, long and slow, allowing the power of their desire for each other to slowly build. Oliver let his hands travel over her body, gently cupping her breasts before moving down to her hips. He let his hands splay out so that his fingers stretched over her back. He read her trauma through touch and tried to pull her to him but she resisted.

Breaking free from the kiss, he opened his eyes and watched her move with purpose down his body. He felt her lips and breath on his deepest scars, the gentle pull of her teeth on his more sensitive skin, and her hands as they traced the ridges of muscles on his chest and abdomen. When he felt the heat of her mouth wrap itself around the sensitive tip of his cock, he let out a loud groan of ecstasy.

The intensity of her hands stroking him while alternating pressures with her mouth and tongue was pushing him faster towards his orgasm then he wanted. The first time she had done this, he came within a minute or two. He had been embarrassed, feeling like a teenager again, but she had waited and eventually coaxed him back to life. In the early days, they made love as though the end of the world was near and they only had a precious few moments left. It was ferocious and all consuming. Now, they had learned how to take their time, keeping the urgency at bay.

As difficult as it was, he forced himself to sit up causing her to release him and sit up with him. Crossing his legs, he pulled Felicity onto his lap. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he let her guide his now painfully hard cock into her body. He let out a hiss of pleasure and pulled her into a kiss, one that took her breath away.

“Mmm...Oliver,” she whispered in his ear, “Hold on.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close to him as he could, and felt her begin to move her hips in a circular, grinding movement. He gasped at the sensation. It was like she was pulsing in time to the delicate thrusts she was making. The hot, wet heat of her body and the way she held onto him always felt good but there was an underlying need with how she was moving now that propelled him to move with her.

Her lips found his again and he sucked her tongue and bottom lip to the rhythm of her hips as they met his and he heard her moan low in her throat, a raw and elemental sound that triggered an equal response from him. In one swift motion, he flipped them so that she was on her back underneath him.

“That...was hot,” she murmured against his lips.  
“Hush…,” he said, smiling into the kiss she was offering.

Felicity answered him by thrusting hard against him. Oliver tried to slow her down by pushing himself to a kneeling position but she kept him tight against her by wrapping her legs around him in such a way that, even though he was on top, he was helpless to stop her.

And oh, how he loved her for it.

With a growl, he traced the delicate pulse in her neck with the tip of his tongue and dragged her to her release with deep, thundering thrusts. He heard her cry out, begging him not to stop as she shuddered and bucked underneath him. Her orgasm was wild, uncontrolled and so deliciously HER. He thrust harder in answer to her cries and felt her pulse again, this time in one prolonged, pulsing and tightening of her body around him.

“Don’t slow down,” she panted in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.  
“Felicity…,” he groaned, his restraint wearing down.  
“Hush,” she whispered, taking his face in her hands, “I love you, Oliver.”

He found himself unable to answer as she once more captured his lips with her own, stealing his voice and what remained of his self control. Finding the rhythm he needed, Oliver felt the spreading heat in his pelvis as he rushed towards his own release. With his heart pounding and and the taste of her lingering on his lips, he came deep inside her. He could feel how her body tightened around him as his hips bucked against hers. Burying his face in her neck, he gasped for breath as the quaking in his bones subsided.

Felicity sighed as his body came to a rest on top of her. Oliver felt her welcome his weight and as much as he wanted to move, he was physically incapable. He was drained, emotionally and physically, but knew he needed to move or he’d suffocate her.

Gently, he pulled himself up and off of her and laid down on the bed next to her now languid form. The rain was still falling but there was no wind, thunder or lightning to accompany it. The gentle sound of the drops hitting the roof acted like a lullaby, relaxing them both in the warm bedroom.

“That...was intense,” she sighed as she turned towards him.  
“It was,” he agreed as he turned to face her, “It always is when you start.”  
“You need to get used to that,” she smiled, “because sometimes it is nice for me to start you up, so to speak.”

Laughing, Oliver traced her face with one finger. Her skin was so soft and the bones in her face so delicate that it was easy to forget how strong she truly was. Smiling, he leaned across the small distance and tenderly kissed her. It was just a small kiss, one meant to share how much he loved her in that moment and nothing more.

That is why the mournful burst of sorrow that pushed through him took him by surprise. It poured out of her without her knowing and it tore at him, ripping holes in his heart. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling, her eyes bright and blue and full of love. He wondered how she couldn’t feel the grief she shed every waking moment.

“We should maybe enjoy the shower?” she suggested.  
“We are the cleanest people I know,” he he chuckled.  
“Come on, then you can read to me,” she coaxed.  
“From what?”  
“Oliver, I know you brought a book with you. I can see it peeking out of your bag.”  
“Ok, ok, ok,” he said in mock surrender, “I’ll read to you if we can stay awake.”  
“What book is it?” she asked softly.  
“The one you gave me.”

Smiling, she sat up and got out of the bed. She looked radiant in the firelight.

“Come on,” she cajoled, reaching out her hand to him, “let’s get cleaned up.”

Taking her offered hand, Oliver vaulted out of the bed and scooped her up. He was halfway down the hall to bathroom before she could say a single word of protest.

“Oliver! You know I hate it when you do this!”  
“Really? I had no idea.”  
“Oliver 3.0 needs some work.”

He laughed as he put her down, gloriously beautiful even in her righteous indignation, and kissed her soundly before heading to the shower to turn on the water to heat up. He glanced up surprised when the lights suddenly went out. Turning around, he was about to ask Felicity to find the light switch for the hallway lights when the flicker and flare of candlelight caught his eye.

“Why you sneaky vixen…”  
“The light is so pretty reflected in your eyes,” she teased, “You know I like it when they twinkle.”

Shaking his head, he pulled her into the hot shower. The steam was rising and the rocks that it was formed out of were warm to the touch. Over top of the sound of the falling water came the distant percussive rumbles of thunder. Another storm was rolling over them but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the woman standing in front of him, her face turned up towards the waterfall showerhead in the ceiling above.

Oliver lost track of time as he fell into their ritual of each washing the other. By the time Felicity was done washing him, he felt his body begin to stir at her touch. He tried to step away but she stepped around him so that they were standing back to front. She massaged and stroked him until his legs shook and he had to hold onto the walls to keep him upright.

By the time he came, his body shuddering and a deep groan rising out of his throat, it was almost a relief. When she took him in hand, the sweetness of it hid the distance she kept between them but in the end, even as she placed a soft kiss in the centre of his back, he felt the chasm between them as keenly as he felt the water running over his body.

After drying off, he made sure the fire was out in the living room fireplace and all the lights were off, and then stumbled to bed. The cottage was quiet, secure and offered an oasis of calm he had forgotten existed. He felt the need to talk about it but Felicity had beat him to bed and had fallen fast asleep in the cozy room. Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle. They had had a long day, filled with love and pain, so her exhaustion did not surprise him in the least.

Easing under the covers, cool and soft, Oliver carefully arranged his tall, powerful body beside her. In time he knew she would find him as she always did, but he kept a small distance between them so as not to wake her. Instead, he spoke softly in the hopes she would hear him in her sleep.

He told her about the first time he realized he loved her, back before their first trip to Russia with Diggle to rescue Lyla, how every day without her that past summer had almost destroyed him. But the worst part was knowing how he had failed her, how he had left her to suffer through the pain of Havenrock alone and now he wanted to be sure she never felt abandoned or alone ever again. That the healing from those wounds and all the other small hurts had just begun and soon, probably sooner than he was comfortable with, he would share with her his deepest regret.

Before falling asleep, he told her about how one night, after looking into her eyes, he had been humbled by the trust he saw and remembered how the deep blue in her eyes perfectly reflected the night sky in the desert all those months ago. He wanted, more than anything, to reconnect with her in their unique way and by doing so he would be helping her fix the unknown wrong within her just as she was doing the same for him.

“Above all else,” he whispered, “I am ready for what life has in store for us. I ready for the rest of it.”

Laying back, Oliver closed his eyes and listened to the rain as it carried him off to sleep.

 

III

_Oliver landed feet first into chaos. The sounds of crunching bones and screaming men told him nothing. He could be in Russia, Hong Kong or on Lian Yu. He forced himself to look around, to see where he was and how to leave it. If he could leave it at all._

_The overhead lights were swaying, distorting the shapes around him, blurring the edges of his vision into shadows of varying depth. He was lost. He didn’t know where he was or how to make sense of the noise and smell around him. He stood still and let his senses drift. It was the only way to slip through the cracks in the chaos of sound and find his way somewhere quiet._

_Closing his eyes, he pushed his hearing out and waited. Beneath the thundering rumble of booted feet, he heard it. A slightly deeper tone buried behind the higher pitched sounds of breaking bone. The exit was there, just beyond the edges of his disintegrating dream, beckoning him closer._

_Moving stealthily through the sound of violence, Oliver approached what he thought would lead him home, instead he entered a brightly lit and familiar room. The loft. He had drawn up the loft from memory to escape to and he felt a fist of shame grip his heart. He still felt the shame of that day, when Felicity stood up and ended their relationship after he had lied to her for months._

_So far the dream made little sense. He couldn’t figure out where he was supposed to go or who he was supposed to talk to. All he was certain of was that he needed to get out of the loft and find the dream that was eluding him._

_“Oliver,” came a deep, resonant voice, “This is what I call the prelude to a dream. Most people don’t normally see that chaotic jumble.”_   
_“Will I have peace anytime soon?” Oliver asked wryly._   
_“Perhaps,” Morpheus said as he looked around the loft Oliver and Felicity had once shared, “So this was once home, was it?”_   
_“It was. Long ago.”_   
_“It is cold. Was it once full of love?”_   
_“It was. It used to be our refuge.”_   
_“And now?”_

_Oliver looked around the space and saw only cold, hard edges. There was no love left here. It held nothing that connected him to it or Felicity. It was missing the warmth of her, the strength of him, and the love that bound them together._

_“So where is home then?” asked the Master of Dreams._   
_“I don’t know,” Oliver answered truthfully, “I had thought it was here but this place feels strange, almost alien, like there is a barrier around everything. I can’t explain it.”_   
_“You can’t touch anything, can you?”_   
_“No,” he admitted sadly._   
_“It’s time to leave this place behind.”_   
_“It’s hard with Felicity still living here.”_   
_“For the moment but you should find somewhere new to rest your head.”_

_Oliver wandered through the space, avoiding touching anything and thought about the idea of home. The closest they had really come was the house in Ivy Town. He missed living there, the patio, the yard and the sense of normality. The cool breezes at night, the sounds of children in playing in large backyards and dogs parking safely from their yards at dusk. He missed it all but knew their chance to live that fairy tale life was done._

_What would come next was anyone’s guess, but he had a secret wish that whatever or wherever it was that it would be the last home they ever needed to buy._

_“Come along, Oliver,” motioned Morpheus, “we have matters to attend to.”_  
 _“I’m tired of this Mo_ rpheus,” _Oliver said in a sad voice, “There are nights when I just want to sleep and rest.”_  
 _“Then let’s end it.”_

_Oliver studied Dream’s unreadable face, searching for a glimmer of insight, a clue to what lay beyond the walls but received none. Morpheus’s eyes glimmered and sparked with ancient light while his face remained passive. His towering height was deceptive as Oliver always felt they looked each other in the eyes. All things in this realm were stretched and teased, he was just a guest in his subconscious world._

_“Back to Russia?” asked Oliver._   
_“Open the door and find out,” Morpheus said as he gestured towards the loft’s entrance._

_With a deep sigh, Oliver walked with purpose towards it, pulled the door open and stepped through it into twilight by a river. As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, he recognized the Memorial Park, the central memorial stone and the sound of the river beyond the trees. He felt calm here, centred and at peace. It was a park created out of unimaginable devastation but from a place of love, honour and respect._

_“You did well here,” Morpheus mused._   
_“It was all for her,” he said quietly._   
_“I know.”_   
_“Why are my dreams so quiet and empty?” Oliver asked, looking around the park._   
_“They aren’t. I hold the influx of sound at bay, as well as who and what you can see on the periphery when I am here. It is distracting to have empty noise continually running in the background. Would you like to see or hear what you are missing out on?”_   
_“I wouldn’t mind a small glimpse.”_

_Morpheus nodded and the scene around them moved like water. The light changed to that of dusk, when the rays of the sun would slant and appear solid as they filtered through the trees. Oliver looked around and spotted a flash of white coming towards him. It shifted in and out of sight, making him doubt his own eyes._

_And then he saw her._

_Her hair shone like gold in the dying light and her simple white dress, delicate as gossamer, flowed around her. One moment it would cling to her body and the next ripple and dance around her as though it were alive. She looked at peace as she wandered through the trees. She wasn’t searching or running in fear. There was a purpose to her movements, as though she had found the healing she so desperately needed. He loved the way a life of meaning looked on her._

_With a small wave of his hand, Morpheus made the air ripple and Felicity was lost under the surface of the dream. Oliver almost protested the interference but knew that his words would fall on deaf ears. Instead, he let her subside, knowing that she lay beside him past the veil of sleep._

_“You almost told her, didn’t you?” Morpheus suddenly asked, surprise and respect in his timeless voice._   
_“I did. I got close but the words wouldn’t come.”_   
_“Why not?”_   
_“Fear. Self loathing. Not wanting to disappoint her,” Oliver shrugged as he sat down on one of the low stone benches._   
_“That isn’t quite it.”_   
_“Well, if anyone would know…,” Oliver said with a wry smile._

_The air rippled violently, as though turning itself inside out and the scene changed. He was no longer on a stone bench, he was sitting on a log and his hands and face were sticky, wet and hot. He was facing his nightmare, the only one that terrified him right down to the bottom of his soul. Morpheus was keeping the sound at bay for the moment, but he knew it wouldn’t last._

_“The sooner you play this scene out to the end, the better, Oliver,” Morpheus said quietly, “Then the words will come.”_

_Morpheus motioned with his hand and the sound poured forth from the forest. Nocturnal rumblings, sighs, creaks and calls. The sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the Taiga forest and the beginnings of mist creeping along the damp forest floor. The man, suspended by his wrists, was quietly weeping tears that the moonlight turned black._

_It was then that Oliver remembered that the tears were not real as tears could not be blood, which pooled, black and viscous, in empty sockets before spilling down his cheeks. This was the only hint that at one time he possessed eyes. The man was sightless but had angled his head towards him, watching in agonized rebuke._

_When Oliver turned to ask Morpheus what he needed to do, he discovered that the Dream King had left him. He wasn’t sure why, but finishing the dream alone felt like the right thing for him to do. He had begun this part of his life alone, so discovering its meaning now seemed natural._

_“You killed me,” said the man in heavily accented English._   
_“I did.”_   
_“All for a few dead men and burned flesh,” he said contemptuously._   
_“You broke the code,” Oliver said darkly._   
_“We all broke the code,” he laughed without humour._   
_“You crossed me during a...dark time in my life. Your life meant nothing to me,” Oliver said helplessly._   
_“And it does now?” he laughed, “Or is it your guilty conscience that has finally caught up with you?”_   
_“A bit of both,” Oliver admitted._   
_“That knife in your hands tells me all I need to know. You are still Bratva.”_

_Oliver looked down and saw the knife in his hand. It glistened with blood. Blood. It was everywhere. He knew it coated his face, hands and clothes. He remembered that night as clearly as he remembered every traumatic death that had followed. He had managed to move past most of the deaths but this one, it haunted him._

_The way the man’s blood had sprayed when he nicked an artery, the sickening tearing sound as he ripped strips of skin from the man’s back and torso, the popping sound his scalp made as it separated from his skull. He had made the man howl in agony as he carved out his eyes and then eventually his tongue. He had systematically removed the man’s humanity without pausing._

_The men who had accompanied him that fateful night had retreated in horror, some vomiting, some making the sign of the cross and praying to a faceless deity that Oliver wanted no part of, now or then. He had become a dark legend in the Siberian forest. A kind of monster whose name was never uttered again. He was feared, loathed, reviled but always respected from that day onwards._

_Oliver looked up at the sightless man and reached deep within himself. He had carried this man’s pain with him for 10 long years. He had tortured, humiliated and killed him as a show of force and then buried the memory in the hopes of never finding it again._

_As Felicity had helped him heal the wounds of the past, showing him how to let go and forgive himself for events that had been beyond his control, this particular memory had proven elusive. He had yet to forgive himself as he felt it was the one thing he did that was by choice and well within his control to prevent. Felicity couldn’t help him heal this wound and for the first time he knew that it was ok._

_That the reason he ran so hard from this long dead, wailing man was out of fear of becoming the monster who could inflict that kind of atrocity on another human being again. The reality that he once was that soulless killing machine simmered under his skin, a boiling tide that he had learned to calm. He had nothing to fear from this man, not now, and the man he was then was gone. He had shed the skin of the Bratva captain and was discovering who he was meant to be._

_All because he had stopped being terrified to love and be loved._

_That was it, he thought, not just love but the ability to open his heart and let go of the monster once and for all._

_Looking up at the man, he slowly put him back together again. He returned his eyes, nose, lips, ears, fingers, the skin on his back and his genitals. When he was done, he discovered that he didn’t recognize his face. The man, after all this time, was a stranger._

_His howl faded into the depths of the forest and then he faded from the tree, leaving only leather straps hanging empty and swaying from the tree branch above. Oliver felt lighter for the first time in a long time, like a significant weight had been lifted off of his shoulders._

_“So are the words there yet?” came Morpheus’s familiar voice from behind him._   
_“Most of them,” Oliver conceded._   
_“Come. I will show you the rest but I require my sister to join us. Ignore her...upbeat nature. I am almost certain she does it to annoy me.”_

_There was a sound, like the frantic beating of many wings, and a young woman with spiky black hair, creamy white skin and a Goth sense of style stepped into view. She scowled up at her brother but broke into a huge smile when she saw Oliver._

_“Oliver! Finally! I have been waiting for this dream!” she exclaimed with a smile._   
_“For this dream? Really?” he asked despite himself._   
_“Well, it wasn’t an easy one for you to let go of but it means so much to me that you did,” she said in a quiet voice, “because the next bit isn’t going to any easier.”_   
_“What?” Oliver asked warily._

_Death looked at her brother and he motioned for her to continue._

_“I need to show you something, so you understand what it is you need to do to help Felicity,” Death said carefully._   
_“Ok, show me,” he said without hesitation._

_Death smiled. Oliver, despite his best efforts, found himself smiling back. He was just about to ask what came next when the scene around him melted and reformed to a place he didn’t recognize. He was looking at a small city, nestled in a valley next to a narrow river. There was a forest surrounded it as well, creating an almost mythical feel to it, like it existed out of time._

_It reminded him of Ivy Town, with its small city centre and ample green spaces. He turned to look at Death and discovered both her and Dream staring intently at the sky. He followed their gaze and saw it. The one nuclear warhead Felicity had been unable to stop. Helpless to do anything other than wait, he watched it descend onto the unsuspecting citizens of Havenrock._

_He felt the blast of heat, heard the screams of the dead and dying as they wailed into the void, he watched as light bent around a fixed point and then there was silent. Oliver had unknowingly dropped to his knees as he watched an entire city vanish in a blaze of superheated death._

_Families, lovers, children, the elderly, all of them gone, he thought._

_“When the bomb fell, and all of those people died, Felicity absorbed their souls. For one fateful moment, she became me,” Death said mournfully, “All those voices, all that confusion and terror, all of it lives within her. I can’t take them from her because they do not belong to me, but I need to, Oliver. She is being consumed by the guilt, by the light of their souls, by so much death…”_   
_“What do I do?” he asked quietly._   
_“Listen,” was all she said as she touched his ears._

_Then Oliver heard it. The wailing, the howling, the angry screaming of tens of thousands who were killed in an instant. It was like he was being punched from the inside by a wall of sound. There was nothing he could do to stop it, so he listened and understood. This was her forest. The one she had tried to avoid, to solve, to save. The one that she had failed to grasp was out of her control._

_This place, this toxic, poisoned place, was where her monster lived only the monster was her._

_But the sound...the sheer volume of pain and torment. How she lived with this was beyond him. It was like living inside death itself._

_“It is,” Death said as she listened to his thoughts, “It is like she is living inside physical death. She became me, Oliver, no human who has or will ever live can be me. It is a power beyond anything on this earth.”_   
_“Or universe,” he said quietly._   
_“Or universe,” she agreed, “So when you wake up, you are going to remember this, the agony, the pain, the grief, the all consuming guilt of wielding the power of a Goddess for an instant even it was for a greater good.”_   
_“Will it help her? Me remembering for her?”_   
_“You aren’t meant to carry this either. Only I can because I know what to do with it. Remember, Oliver, this isn’t about you,” Dream reminded him, “It is about her and Havenrock.”_

_“I guess this is it,” Oliver said as he got back up to his feet, “Time to wake up?”_   
_“There is one last thing you need to see,” Death said as she exchanged a glance with her brother._

_Once more, the scene changed and he was back in the loft. Felicity was sitting on the edge of the bed, her small hands folded in her lap, with her head bowed. Her glasses were sitting on the dresser and all the lights but the one on her side of the bed were off._

_She couldn’t see them as they stood like sentries around the perimeter of the room and watched her in silence. Oliver thought she was praying so he remained a few paces back, giving her privacy and respect. There was a sadness that shimmered around her that he sometimes glimpsed when she thought he wasn’t looking but he was always looking. Watching to see if she remained rooted to this world._

_Death took him by the arm and lead him forward. At first he resisted but she looked up at him and shook her head._

_“Don’t worry, Oliver, she can’t see or hear us. I wanted you to see what she does on nights where you aren’t with her,” Death said quietly._   
_“Wait, is this her dream?” he asked confused._   
_“It is still your dream but with my brother’s permission, I am supplying the images,” she said carefully._   
_“What is she doing? Praying?”_   
_“No,” Death said with a slow shake of her head, “She is reciting the names of the dead. All of them.”_   
_“From memory,” he stated in a tight voice._   
_“Yes.”_

_Oliver felt a hollowness in his chest and then the tight squeeze of agonizing sorrow around his heart. He had no idea. None whatsoever. Every night she was alone, she lived with the dead. He felt hot tears slip down his face but he made no move to wipe them away. He could feel how alone she was as he watched, even as the dead came to join her._

_“What can I do…,” he said, his voice shaking as he cried._   
_“Walk her home,” was all Death said._

_Oliver buried his face in his hands and cried. He didn’t feel the gentle touch of an ancient, cold hand at the base of his skull. Immediately all things faded away except, for one shining moment, Felicity. She remained glowing and alive in his view but when she faded, he ran from the dream into the deep waters of true sleep._

Oliver awoke with a start. His face was wet and his breathing laboured. The weight of the dream was pressing down on his chest. Every word, sound and smell but it was Havenrock that loomed large in his mind. He could feel the warmth of Felicity next to him. She was still deeply, dreamlessly asleep. He could tell by the way she was breathing that Dream had graced her with a night of rest.

A swell of panic rolled through him and he heard the dying wails of a city reduced to ash. He couldn’t stay in the bed any longer. The knowledge of how Felicity was carrying the weight of Havenrock’s destruction had broken something in him. A part of him that belonged to only her and knowing how much of her devastation she had hid from him pushed him out of their shared bed.

Picking up his sweatpants, he made his way silently from the room. He kept to the shadows as he moved, afraid of being seen and heard. He needed time alone to think through how to do what he was being asked to do. The image in his mind as he made his way through the dark cottage was of a bowed, golden head and a soft, whispering voice reciting name after name.

Mournful. That was the word to describe how he felt. He had felt sadness and sorrow but never this, never mournful. It was pervasive and it slipped through the cracks in his defenses like fog through the woods. He felt blown apart by her strength, that she could withstand the siege the Havenrock dead had waged at her door for so long.

He wandered over to the large windows that overlooked the forest behind the cottage. The sky was dark, with occasional rolling flashes of lightning as it chased itself through the clouds. But the thunder was quiet, a deep bass drum in the distance. These were the kinds of storms he enjoyed. The rain fell softly but steadily and he wondered if the morning was far away.

The air inside the main room was cool and damp. As quietly as he could he laid a new fire, smaller than the night before, and laid down on the couch. He couldn’t face her just yet, not with the hidden knowledge of what every day was like for her since Havenrock. Oliver had thought he knew. After the destruction of the wall that lead to the creation of the garden, after the way she raged at him in the cabin, he had thought she had made a breakthrough. That she had shown him how deep the wounds were that she was healing from.

Closing his eyes, Oliver pulled his thoughts close and tried to sort them into some kind of order but all he could hear was the dying gasp of the dead she had brought with her. No matter where she went, they would surround her. Opening his eyes, he watched the firelight reflecting in the skylights high above and wondered if sleep was passing him by so he could figure it out.

Letting his attention drift, he thought back to the night he found her curled around herself under the fountain in the courtyard. She had destroyed herself physically and mentally in an effort to let go of the rage and pain inside her. He had wrapped himself around her, to cocoon her as she healed, and then he watched her emerge stronger than before. They may not be legally married but he doubted he would ever feel this bonded to another human being no matter how long he lived.

“Oliver?” came Felicity’s quiet call from the hallway, “Oliver, where are you?”

She sounded sleepy and confused. For a quick second he felt ashamed. He had left her alone in a strange bed in the middle of the night because he was powerless to stop her grief. The time display on the DVR read 4:00 am which meant they had only had a few hours sleep, hopefully he could coax her back to bed without too many questions.

“I’m here,” he called softly, sitting up so she could see him silhouetted against the fire. He watched her as she spotted him in the golden, flickering light. She had pulled on his hoodie and was shivering in the cooler air by the kitchen.

“Come here,” he coaxed, “It’s warmer over here.”  
“Did you have a bad dream? Are you ok?” she asked as she crawled under the blanket he had dragged over himself when he laid down.

Oliver smiled as he wrapped his arms around her. She was always so cuddly when she was sleepy or just waking up. She would move her body around until she found the right spot and then settle in next to him with a sigh. She smelled of their time in Bali, spicy and floral, and he promised himself they would return to that magical island someday soon.

“So,” she prodded, “what woke you up? Was it the storm?”  
“No, I…,” he trailed off unsure of how to tell her about the dream.

Felicity sat up and studied him. He watched a look of concern cross her face.

“Oliver, have you been crying?” she asked so softly he felt the words more than heard them.  
“I’m ok, love, just a bad dream,” he reassured her.  
“No,” she said shaking her head, “not good enough. We have to stop this, Oliver.”  
“Could...could we talk about this in the morning?”  
“No. Oliver,” she said in exasperation, pushing herself away from him, “you do this all the time. You don’t have to.”

Oliver was wrestling with what to do and how to say what he needed to. He could see that the frustration and confusion were creating an invisible wall between them but felt powerless to stop it from growing. He sat up, wanting to flee but could see any movement to leave the couch would end in disaster.

“I know, Felicity,” he said stiffly, “but maybe you should lead by example.”

She stared at him, her eyes first widening in surprise and then narrowing in anger. He could see it building, pushing out of her body in razor edged waves. He had to take the chance. He had to push her to be angry, to be connected to something other than pain for just a moment.

“I’ve told you not to push,” she said tightly.  
“Told? Not asked?” he challenged.  
“Oliver…”  
“No, Felicity. If you are going to ask me to open up about the horror and terror that sometimes my mind dredges up, you have to be willing to offer something in return.”  
“I’m not ready, Oliver.”  
“Ok, I understand that but did you stop to think that what I am dreaming about is something I’m not ready to talk about?” he asked, suddenly finding himself growing angry with her. He knew it was irrational but she couldn’t keep making this demand and not expect him to ask the same in return.

When she remained silent, he got up and blindly made his way to the kitchen. He fumbled around in the dark, locating the glasses and then the tap but just stood there, staring out the window into the darkest night he had seen since being on Lian Yu.

He thought about the irrational anger and the words pushing themselves up to the surface. He was struggling to contain them but tonight wasn’t the night to unleash all that he needed to tell her. He was tired and knew she was, too. She was tired of the grief, guilt and helplessness that she carried with her in every moment, asleep or awake, and of the whispering voices of the dead. He was tired of not being able to help her.

Tears poured down his face, unfelt. It was only when he felt her arms slip around his waist and the press of her body against his that all the fight in him faded and he stood silent and still. He was used to this, of allowing her the space to hold him.

“What is wrong with us?” she said quietly from behind him, “How can we love each other this much and still be so far away, so...distant?”

Oliver turned around in her embrace and encircled her with his arms. He remembered the wailing, the pain, anguish and grief that had pummeled him in his dream and his body shook as the tears continued to flow. The ache in his heart was growing but he knew it was nothing compared to the torment she lived with.

“Felicity,” he said through a voice thick with emotion, “I dreamed about you.”  
“What...what did you see?”  
“Havenrock. I felt...I felt the dead pass through me,” he whispered.

Her body stiffened in his arms but he held her tight. He wanted her to feel his strength because what was coming was not going to be easy for either of them.

“You are carrying them all with you. All the dead. You need to let them go,” he whispered.  
“How can you know that? Be so certain?” she said as she pushed out of his arms, “You have...you don’t...how could you? How could you know?”

They stood staring at each other from across a distance no greater than a foot, but might as well have been a mile, and waited. Neither one was willing to give ground first. Oliver took in her defiant stance, the way she stood with her chin jutting out and shoulders back. She could outwait him, that he knew, so he had a choice: tell her about what Death had shown him or tell her about the man.

“Oliver,” she began, suddenly giving in, “Please...please stop crying.”

The plea in her voice broke his heart and blindly, he reached out to her. As he blinked away tears, he felt her dive back into the safety of his arms. She held onto him like he would float away at any moment. She was anchoring him as tightly as she could to the earth and to her.

“I’m sorry, Felicity,” he whispered, wiping his eyes, “But it’s true. I dreamt of you and Havenrock. I didn’t realize...the scale of what you are carrying...I thought you had let it go. I am so sorry I missed all the signs...”

Felicity looked up at him, searching his eyes for clues, took his face in her hands and asked, “There is more, isn’t there? You aren’t telling me everything.”  
“There’s more but let’s wait,” he said, “It’s 4am and we have all weekend.”  
“Ok,” she whispered, pulling his head down so she could reach his lips with her own.

She kissed him gently, almost shyly, but made no attempt to move away from him. Instead lingering so that he could feel her breath and the way her body swayed ever so slightly against him. He felt a need for more, it came on like a hunger but he restrained himself, not wanting to push too hard.

But Felicity surprised him. She pulled back a fraction of an inch and stared up at him, her eyes glittering in the dark light. He felt the rise and fall of her breasts against him and the rolling waves of grief she couldn’t contain no matter how hard she tried.

Those swells brought her crashing into him. Her lips found his and he sucked her tongue, her bottom lip, and felt her hands push past the elastic waistband of his sweats. Within seconds, he pulled his hoodie off of her and he lifted her up, feeling her legs wrap around his waist. Holding her firmly, he leaned her back so that he could lick and suck her nipples to hard points. Felicity let her head fall back and he heard her moan in a way he had never heard from her before. It was deep, unhinged and full of want.

She ground hard against him and then kissed him until all the oxygen left his lungs. He half walked, half stumbled to the couch and sat down. She plunged her tongue into his mouth in time to the way she moved her hips against him. There was no stopping now, the need was too great.

“Oliver,” she gasped, her lips against his neck, “this is about you and me. Ok?”  
“What do you mean?” he asked while he slipped his sweatpants off.  
“We’ll talk tomorrow but right now…,” she paused to look at him, “this is just about you and me.”

He looked into her eyes and understood. This would be pure, simple sex for them, between them. It would be hard, fast and explosive. She continued to grind him, hot and wet already, and he groaned into her neck and gripped her hips. He cock grew harder and harder as she glided up and down the shaft until he saw white spots behind his eyelids. Neither one of them wanted to wait, the need to reconnect overtook them both.

“I love you, Felicity,” he gasped as she took hold of him and guided him inside her, “Just trust me.”  
“Shhhh,” she whispered against his lips and then began to thrust hard against him.

She was on top and in complete control. All he could do was try to hold himself back but with each hard, frantic thrust she was pushing him past his breaking point. She tightened around him and he felt her shudder and buck, her orgasm coming fast and hard. She cried out but didn’t stop her hips. Oliver heard her voice in his ear as she urged him to go faster, to not stop, to forgive her.

He felt the heat in his pelvis spread out in undulating waves. The harder her hips moved, the less restraint he had. He gripped her hips and urged her to go faster, to not hold back and she complied. Her back arched and she came again in a series of quick, deep thrusts that pulled him with her. Gasping, his orgasm ripped through him and he exploded in a heated rush, a volcanic eruption that shook them both.

Felicity laid her head on his shoulder and tried to catch her breath but he felt an odd hitch to her breathing. She was crying, softly and steadily, and trying to hide it from him.

“Felicity,” he said quietly, “Hon, what is it?”  
“It’s just...I don’t know,” she half laughed, half cried.  
“We really need to figure out how to use our words,” he murmured as he reached for the blanket to cover them both with.  
“I’m sorry, Oliver.”  
“For what?”  
“For thinking that you don’t deserve the same privacy that I was demanding you respect.”  
“Felicity, I think we are figuring out a lot about each other,” he said gently as he held her close.  
“We really need to slow down on the sex.”  
“What?” he laughed, “You’re the one that started this.”  
“You could say no.”  
“And disappoint my only fan?”

Felicity laughed and wiped her eyes. He could feel the tension in her body as she fought a losing battle with herself and the tears came again. Oliver let her cry. He held her, listening for the whispers of the dead who dogged her, hoping their voices were silent for her now, giving her a reprieve.

“There,” she said quietly some time later, “we’re somewhat equal.”  
“We’ve never been equal,” he said, “you’ve always been the best part of this.”  
“Whenever I am lost, you always manage to find me,” she murmured into his ear, “you are my peace of mind, Oliver Queen.”  
Oliver pulled back and looked into her eyes, gently smoothed the hair off of her face and said, “And you are mine.”  
“Can we sleep in this morning?” she asked drowsily as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck.  
“For as long as you want.”  
“Recite a poem for me,” she requested with a yawn.  
“From that book?”  
“Yes, I somehow think you have one or two of them memorized.”

Oliver chuckled. He had a couple memorized for their beauty and one that had made him think about her when he read it. In a quiet, subdued voice, he recited:

_“Smooth brow and golden hair,_   
_sapphire eyes and temple fair,_   
_glowing skin, with lips of rose,_   
_ivory throat, a nobel nose,_   
_her form is graceful, proud her air;_   
_and in her hands, pale and fine,_   
_see Love’s scepter proudly shine:_   
_Fili extolled, with - shod in gold -_   
_a foot so comely it takes only_   
_Half a line.”(4)_

Felicity’s breathing deepened as he spoke, her body relaxed against his and he slowly realized she had fallen asleep. He thanked his workout regiment as he stood up and laid her down on the couch. He tended to the fire, dampening it down until all that was left was smoking ash and then carefully picked her up and carried her to bed.

Before falling asleep, he remembered her asking him for forgiveness. He hadn’t paid it much attention at the time as he was lost in the wonder that was her body. But now, right before he let go and allowed sleep to claim him once again, he realized what she had really been saying. He heard her voice in his ears and heart. The two words she couldn’t say out loud.  
_Help me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOOTNOTES IN CHAPTER 10
> 
> 1\. She Assures She Will Hold A Secret In Confidence, Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz. Poems, Protest, and a Dream. 1997.  
> 2\. пожалуйста (Pozhaluysta) - “please” in Russian  
> 3\. больше не надо (Bol'she ne nado) - “No more” in Russian  
> 4\. She Described in Detail - Not to Give the Last Word to Painting - The Portrait of a Beauty, Poems, Protest and a Dream. Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz. Pg 165.


	11. Night Three: Emergence Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a breather. Like an interlude just with Dream and Death discussing what comes next for Oliver and Felicity. 
> 
> Things are slowly moving forward in their journey but sometimes it is fun to sit and visit with the Endless siblings as they figure out their role in the lives of Oliver and Felicity.

**Night Three: Emergence Part Four**

** **

_The eye of the storm was silently moving towards land from its place of creation, far out over the ocean. The warm air that fed it swirling around and around even as cooler air met it lower down, closer to the water’s surface. Landfall was still hours away but it was maintaining strength and power. The winds would miss the cottage, but the rain, thunder and lightning would roll over it in successive waves._

_Dream floated high above, deep in thought as he cast his grains of sand into the timeless stream of sleep. He had grown adept at shutting his ears to the howls of the nightmares that plagued the population of humans that lived and died beneath him._

_“Morpheus, you really need to stop being so brooding and dramatic,” called his younger sister._   
_“It is the only way to see you coming, dear sister.”_   
_“Ha ha,” Death said sarcastically._

_Dream descended. His sister wasn’t always interested in the world from above. She preferred the view from the ground. Death was practiced at walking amongst mortals in a way he never would be which may be why he had called out to her on the cosmic wind._

_“So how goes your time with Felicity?” he asked._   
_“Dream, my dear older brother, your casual act is in need of work,” she laughed._   
_“Perhaps,” he conceded with a smile, “but the question remains.”_   
_“She is still so resistant to letting go of the dead. I have one or two more tricks left but I’m going to have to show her what’s inside of the box she keeps hidden in the centre of her mind...with your help, or course,” Death said with a wink._   
_“That might be possible. It might be necessary. Of the two of them…,” he shrugged._   
_“She is the strongest but he is no slouch,” Death commented, somewhat distracted as she looked out across the water, “This storm is a doozy. I wonder sometimes if they aren’t calling them down on themselves without realizing it.”_   
_“I do not think they are Elementals, Sister,” Dream said somewhat evasively._

_Death looked up at her older brother and narrowed her eyes. She recognized that tone. He knew something, something about them that he isn’t sharing with her yet. Nothing pleased him more than to have hold of a thread of knowledge that she did not._

_“You need to stop being so cheeky,” she said with a roll of her eyes._   
_“What do you suspect me of, Sister?”_   
_“Dream…,” she sighed, “You always do this! You have some little tidbit of information and you make it seem like it is the be all end all!”_   
_“I am merely suggesting that they are not Elementals but I will concede that they are connected to something much larger than the just this earthly realm.”_   
_“Are they going to be trapped again?”_   
_“I don’t think so but anything is possible.”_

_Death sat in thoughtful contemplation. She knew her brother often caught glimpses of distant truths through the eyes of those in slumber. Sometimes there were moments when their worlds collided. He would be watching the images in the dreams of one who was passing into her realm and in those fleeting seconds, they would both see into a part of the Universal Constant that held more secrets than there were grains of sand on all the beaches on Earth._

_Somewhere in that secret place was the truth of Oliver and Felicity. Death was sure of it. She knew her brother was hiding the truth of it but she hadn’t yet figured out why. The two lovers needed to find each other again. They thought they were connected, strong, and in control but the weight of the dead were pushing them apart._

_It was a slow but insidious process. Like water dripping on a stone, carving a hole through the heart of it. The distance growing between them was a silent, dangerous prospect. Death wasn’t sure the city they lived in could withstand it but more importantly she wasn’t sure if the pair of them would survive it._

_“Sister?” called Dream._   
_“Yes, dear brother of mine,” she answered._   
_“If we are to show them why they are no longer connected, how do you think they will fix...their connection?”_   
_“You mean their relationship?” she teased._   
_“Erm…”_

_Death laughed at her brother’s obvious discomfort. He had known love once long ago but was never entirely comfortable discussing it. She never pried but she had sat beside him during the long wait as his lover crossed over to her world and found her way to the life beyond. She had allowed Morpheus the courtesy of walking along her, only observing from a distance, as she let go of her corporeal body and let her energy spread out across the Universe._

_Morpheus had vanished for a time. Ruling over his realm from high, high above it. He had avoided contact with all his siblings except for Destiny, who could not be avoided. Death had worried about him but knew he would survive as he had survived so many other losses through time. He felt deeply but not often and that was the one thing that allowed him to continue on in his never ending existence which was inextricably tied to humanity._

_It was extremely rare for them both to find themselves drawn to the same two humans at the exact same time. Yet here they were, both watching over two humans who were in a relationship but for two very different reasons. Death knew she would need to talk to Oliver soon, just as Morpheus knew he would need to talk to Felicity. It was a curious thing that they were both seeking entrance to each other’s realms in order to do so._

_Death hated the dream realm. It was confusing and the way the nightmares howled ceaselessly, night and day, was maddening but she would need to brave that dead forest of damaged souls to find Oliver. Morpheus was doing his best to keep him contained but there were things only she could do._

_Morpheus had quietly descended and was sitting beside her, watching the fast moving water as it tumbled and churned past them. So many streams of consciousness flowed past them, she wondered how he kept track._

_“So, Sister,” he said quietly, “what are we to do?”_   
_“I don’t quite know yet,” she answered with a yawn, “but I guess something has to happen soon. She is drowning in pain and he is dying because of nightmares.”_   
_“We have a strange situation on our hands but we need to figure this out soon.”_   
_“Has the shadow spread?” she asked._   
_“It has. It is only going to get worse.”_   
_“What form has it taken?”_   
_“It hasn’t decided yet what it wants to be but it is slowly contracting and taking shape. It may remain as it is or change to something else. Regardless of how it ends up, they need to be ready for what is to come,” he said._   
_“These two...if they aren’t cavorting with beings as old as the Universe…”_   
_“They are tangling with an evil so old, it has forgotten its own name?” he finished for her._   
_“HOW? How is that even...POSSIBLE?” she exclaimed in a combination of exasperation and admiration._   
_“Sister, I wish I knew,” he said with a bemused shake of his head._   
_“They really are soul mates, aren’t they?”_   
_“So it would seem.”_   
_“Well, I guess I should be watching his nightmare,” Death said softly._   
_“And I should be figuring out how to get her to the Park.”_   
_“That part will be easy. The hard part will be getting her to open up the box in the centre of it.”_

_Morpheus stood up and looked out across the dream realm. Time moved differently here. It moved all at once and not at all. However, as his sister was so fond of saying, there was no time like the present. If they worked together, they could get the two lovers to finally see their way past the walls they had constructed and join their life forces once and for all._

_If nothing else, he thought as he floated into humanity’s consciousness stream, he would enjoy his younger sister’s continued frustration with him and her assumption that he was only obtuse with her. If only she knew that of all his siblings, he loved her best. Until that reveal, they had work to do and it was going to get disturbingly chaotic in the minds of two complicated human beings._


	12. Night Three: The Telling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is a long one. 
> 
> This is Felicity's POV of their first day in the cabin and her reflections on the dreams she is having regarding Havenrock. Death and Dream both make an appearance as they try to get Oliver and Felicity to open up about their trauma in a way that isn't just surface dwelling.
> 
> There is a tiny surprise here as to the content of their first conversation about that. It ended up being a lot different on the page then what I thought it would be. I am looking forward to the next chapter because it will be a so painful but so good.
> 
> Enjoy! (and spot the references to my other fics - I am weaving them all together in this fic)

**Day Four: The Telling**

_She reached up_  
_To touch_  
_The stars in the sky._

I

Oliver had outdone himself with the dinner he made them. If he had turned his back for a minute or two, she would have licked the plate clean. When he accurately guessed her secret desire, she pretended to be offended but was delighted by the way it made him laugh. They needed to take more time to share in the simple things that brought humour and pleasure to their lives, even if it was only a small jab here and there about how much she loved to eat his cooking.

But then he pulled her to her feet when Billie Holiday gave way to something from the 1940’s on the stereo and danced her through the cabin and she forgot about the jokes and the laughter. Felicity loved the way his body felt when they did this. Normally, he was tightly coiled, muscles ready for action but when he danced with her, he was loose, limber, it was like he let all the tension, stress and worry of their lives together just flow out of his body. She loved relaxing into him, letting him lead, and feeling the way he experienced the music.

She placed her hand in his, laid her head on his chest and swayed with him through the kitchen, the dining room and in through the living room. She listened to his heart beat, so steady and strong, and felt the way the music relaxed his body into hers. Felicity closed her eyes and remembered the night in Positano when they danced underneath the stars after a romantic candlelight dinner. It was the first time Oliver had pulled her to her feet and purposefully slow danced with her. She remembered the music, the food, the wine and the way she had scarcely breathed the entire time.

When he managed to dance them to the couch, she felt a fleeting sadness. She could have danced the entire night away with him. It was sexy and intimate and effortless. It allowed them to be in the moment with one another, no need for words and all the insecurities they felt just faded away. The moment they sat down on the couch, the events and emotions of the day caught up with them and within moments they were both fast asleep.

_“Felicity,” said Death, “Come on. It’s time for you to show me where you keep them.”_  
_“Wait? Show you what?” she asked, confused as to where she was or even what was being asked of her._

_Death laughed and slipped her arm through Felicity’s and together they started walking up what turned out to be a garden path. The sounds of insects, birds and the wind through the leaves in the bushes and trees around them filtered out all other sound. Felicity had no idea where they were and for the moment, didn’t care. The sun was warm, the breeze was cool and her legs felt good. She enjoyed the moment for what it was and refused to think about where Death was taking her._

_They weren’t in the Memorial Park, like she thought they were, but in a woodland setting somewhere nearby. She was sure she recognized it but was distracted by a persistent humming sound that was coming from the woods to her left. It was distracting but so faint it was hard to figure out exactly what it was._

_“Do you hear that?” she asked._  
_“Hear what?”_  
_“That...humming sound. I can’t figure out where it is coming from,” Felicity said, stopping in the middle of the path in order to listen more closely. It was still faint but it had taken on a tonal quality, like a song. “It sounds like a song…”_

_Death looked at her like she was crazy and for a moment Felicity thought maybe she was until the hum became a chorus and it was like the forest started to singing . It was gloriously, angelically, musically perfect. Unlike anything she had ever heard before. Death finally heard the voices but her reaction wasn’t what Felicity was expecting._

_“Come on,” Death said firmly, “I recognize this tune and those voices. We best be on our way.”_  
_“But why? Who is it that is singing?”_  
_“What, not who,” Death said as she narrowed her eyes, “I don’t think it is the right time or place to figure out what it wants just yet.”_  
_“You look worried,” Felicity said carefully._  
_“Not worried, just...cautious. When my brother shows up, we’ll come back to them.”_  
_“Your BROTHER is coming?”_  
_“I hope so!” Death exclaimed as she looked up, searching the sky through the canopy of trees._

_Felicity shook her head and wondered what it might be like to have a sibling as old as time itself. All things with a consciousness dreamed and died. They desired, despaired and had a destiny. Nothing existed in a vacuum or unnoticed by these Endless siblings. They didn’t govern or participate in the lives of humans or in anything in the Universe unless they felt like it on a whim. They simply were._

_It was with this thought running through her head that Felicity allowed Death to lead her deeper into her dream. She suspected she knew where they were going but not why. It wasn’t Havenrock but still, it wasn’t anywhere good. It was the one place where her memories were deliberately hazy, like when she tried to look everything faded along the edges, slowly disintegrating into nothing. The closer they got to the end of the path they were walking, the more fragile the images in front of her became until they disintegrated, blowing past her like ash on the wind._

_“This...this isn’t really like any dream I have ever had before,” Felicity said softly. She felt pensive and nervous. The light kept shifting around them and from one minute to the next, she wasn’t sure what exactly was going to happen or what she would see._  
_“It’s more of a waking dream,” said a deeper, more resonant voice from behind them._

_Death sighed, in relief or annoyance Felicity couldn’t tell, and together they turned to face her brother, Morpheus, the Sandman, or Dream as he preferred humans call him. He was a lot taller than Felicity remembered him to be but his eyes...they glittered like a clear night sky full of stars._

_“My brother loves to make a dramatic entrance,” Death sighed._  
_“My sister loves to be dramatic,” Dream said with an exaggerated sigh._  
_“Seems to me you are both dramatic,” Felicity said with a small laugh._  
_“Well, we do both enjoy the colour black,” Death mused as she looked at her brother’s clothes and then her own._  
_“And the theatre,” Dream deadpanned._

_Felicity and Death exchanged looks and then burst out into peals of laughter. This was turning out to be a different kind of dream, one that was still hiding a nightmare at its centre but was easing her into its rhythms. Her skin felt prickly, feverish. What was coming felt electric, slippery and real. She was trepidacious, nervous, but vaguely hopeful._

_“I can’t stay long,” Dream said just as a distant wailing began to drift towards them on the wind, “I am needed elsewhere but the next time we meet, my sister shan’t be here.”_  
_“Shan’t? Did you just say ‘shan’t’?” Death exclaimed._  
_“Err...I’ll be on my way,” Dream said and winked out of view._

_The two women, one impossible old, the other timeless, continued to laugh as they walked. The scene around them was beginning to take on real shape, resolving itself into shapes and substance. The forest faded and they soon found themselves in a jungle, next to a small clearing that eventually connected to a path. Felicity knew this path like the back of her hand. She had thought about it almost everyday since that one lovely afternoon where they hiked to the temple buried deep in the heart of the jungle near the sacred lake._

_It was peaceful there. Even in the hot sun surrounded by thick, dense and fragrant jungle. It had been the start of their world adventure together. A time of such intimate discovery, deepening of their connection and most of all, just so much love. Felicity stopped and closed her eyes, pulling herself inward, reaching down into the centre of her memories to the place she had brought them to, and tried to connect to that place again._

_“Wow,” breathed Death, “I have seen many, many worlds and galaxies but never have I seen something like this…”_  
_“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Felicity asked as she opened her eyes to dazzling green and, high overhead the blazing hot sun filtered down through the canopy of interlocking limbs of the strange Banyan trees, the temperature cooling by a degree or two before reaching the jungle floor._  
_“It is and this temple...it is old. Not me old, but OLD,” Death said reverently as she ran her hand over the worn stones._  
_“It is ancient,” Felicity agreed, “and the way we found it was...unique.”_  
_“Oh I know,” Death said, “My brother and I have had many a conversation about the two of you.”_

_Felicity sat down on the temple’s worn stone steps and regarded Death with amusement and curiosity. She had wondered, since meeting the Endless siblings, if they had talked about the shared dreamspace that she and Oliver on occasion shared. When things were good between them, when they were communicating, they were connected on all levels. They shared energy and it was beautiful._

_Sadly, since the discovery of how often he had lied to her about William, the lingering effects of the paralysis reversal, and Havenrock, they were still struggling to find that common ground. Things were improving but there were still moments of misunderstanding, flares of temper and nights when being alone was preferred._

_“Felicity?” Death called quietly._  
_“Hmmm? Oh! Right! This is still a dream!” she laughed as she snapped back to attention._  
_“You blanked out on me,” Death said in concern._  
_“I was remembering the last time I was here and all the things that happened since.”_  
_“Havenrock.”_  
_“And finding out about Oliver’s son, getting shot, getting paralyzed, breaking off my engagement, relationship...and then walking again…”_  
_“Wait...Oliver has a SON?” Death asked in shock._  
_“Yes, he does,” Felicity said softly, “His name is William.”_  
_“I get the impression that is still a delicate subject.”_  
_“I try to not let it be but I am still disappointed, not angry, not anymore, but I still feel an intense pressure inside my heart,” she explained._  
_“Despair, my much younger sibling, would be responsible for that,” Death said carefully, “She will get her hook into you and tear your flesh to shreds if you let her. You need to find a way to let go of that, Felicity. Not forgive or forget, but let it subside.”_  
_“Despair is where I was a few months ago. I was dying. If not for Oliver...I think I would be dead.”_  
_“I know. I was present a couple of times when you came very close to meeting your death. To meeting me. Oliver, or the Green Arrow, is the only reason we are able to have this conversation.”_  
_“He...he never told me it got that close. He said I was in a danger a couple of times…”_  
_“Felicity, you were actively seeking death. Oliver didn’t save you, he kept you safe until you decided once and for all if you wanted to live.”_

_Felicity sat in silence, watching colourful birds fly through the trees. She was thankful for Oliver even if she wasn’t ready to completely let go of the disappointment she felt about how he handled discovering William and subsequent decisions that ripped their relationship apart. With a heavy sigh, she stood up and headed towards the centre of the ruined temple._

_“I guess we should get going,” Felicity said in an effort to change the topic._  
_“Get going? We are already where we need to be.”_  
_“In Bali?”_  
_“Yup,” Death said with an emphatic nod of her head that caused her hair to fall into her eyes, “we are in the right place for something that needs to be done.”_  
_“What’s that?” Felicity asked, curious and suddenly alert._  
_“We have to get you ready for opening the box in the park.”_  
_“Oh. Right. That.”_  
_“Yes, that.”_  
_“Why are you so insistent on that thing? Couldn’t it just be...a box? With nothing special about it?” Felicity asked, trying to find a way through it._  
_“You know there is nothing ordinary about that box, Felicity. It contains exactly what you need to give up.”_

_Just then there was a shift in the scent on the wind. It was suddenly fetid, humid and slightly dank. The chemical smell of ozone reached them and Felicity knew a storm was brewing in her subconscious. Death sensed it, too, and looked at her in silent appeal. The last thing either of them was ready for was a storm._

_“I’m sorry,” Felicity said regretfully, “but I guess this is a touchy subject.”_  
_“I know, hun,” Death said as she sat down next her and gave her a quick hug, “But it is letting despair take root in your heart. You have too much to live for, Felicity, you can’t let that happen.”_  
_“Your brother is coming back to help though…”_  
_“He is because I can only go so far with you before I need his help.”_  
_“Why?”_  
_“Because you and Oliver have shared dream space with each other and some of the most powerful beings in the Universe. I know that the only way to walk you to life is for my brother to walk you through the dead.”_  
_“Wait...you are Death...why can’t you do that for me?”_  
_“Felicity, I would LOVE to do it! You have NO idea!” Death said with dramatic flourish, “It would save me trying to find him. The Universe is one big place.”_  
_“Ok, let’s do what needs doing before the storm arrives.”_  
_“You can’t stop the storm?” Death asked in confusion._  
_“I think I am letting the actual storm leak into the dream, so no, I can’t,” Felicity said ruefully._  
_“Well, then I guess we best get on with it.”_

_Death reached out her hand and beckoned for Felicity to join her in the centre of the temple, underneath the spot that would have been under the space the four supporting beams for the roof would have met. Even missing, their memory was held by the stones and both women felt the vibration of the space change. It loosened their limbs, relaxed their minds and Felicity felt a calmness that was almost transcendental._

_“Wow,” was all she could say._  
_“Like I said, this place is OLD,” Death said softly._  
_“What are we waiting for?” Felicity whispered. She was afraid that speaking too loudly might disrupt the energy of the sacred space._  
_“For my brother to be done having a conversation with Oliver. Until then, let’s talk about that box.”_  
_“I don’t know how to open it.”_  
_“Yes, you do. You need to want to and to be ready for what comes out of it.”_  
_“What if I never am?”_  
_“Then,” Death began with a sigh, “the next time we meet, it will be because Oliver could no longer keep you safe and you chose not to live.”_

_Felicity didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t consciously being suicidal all those times she went walking on the streets of Star City. She had been trying to escape the memories and reminders of Havenrock, William and most of all, Oliver. It was silly to think she could outrun them all, but she needed space to just work the energy out of her system. To find a way to understand it all in the midst of unrelenting trauma and grief._

_“I wasn’t trying to end my life,” Felicity said quietly, “I was trying to end remembering.”_  
_“That won’t ever happen, Felicity. Not so long as you are allowing Despair to live alongside you. Or keeping the souls of the dead inside your heart.”_

_The distant thunder was slowly growling louder. The storm would be upon them soon and there was nothing Felicity could do to stop it. It was a direct reflection of the one that was blowing in from over the ocean outside of her dream. She wondered if Oliver was awake and if the storm really was as bad as she thought it was._

_“What if that isn’t what is inside the box? What if...what if it is something else?” Felicity asked quietly, looking up at the sky._  
_“Do you believe that?”_  
_“No, but a girl can dream,” Felicity said with a rueful smile._  
_“Oh you did NOT just say that!” Death exclaimed with a loud laugh._

_Felicity smiled and linked her arm through Death’s. The storm coming was both within and without. She hoped that she could make it through the weekend without it boiling over into the mess it could become. Turning her face up to the sky, Felicity felt the first drops of rain hit her face. They ran down her cheeks like tears._

Felicity awoke with a start. She was on the couch, warm under the blanket and in front of the fire, but she was alone. Somehow Oliver had untangled himself from where they had so gracefully danced and collapsed in a heap of limbs after dinner. She had no idea how they slept or how long Oliver had been gone but the cushions beside her were cool to the touch and the storm, so nearly upon them when they fell asleep, had long since past them by.

It took a few minutes for her to fully wake up so she listened to the wind and the slow, steady footsteps on the deck outside as Oliver walked the perimeter of the cabin. He was trying to be so careful and quiet but she knew him. When he wasn’t able to sleep, he prowled the night. They weren’t in the city so he had no choice but to patrol the deck as though it were a rooftop.

There was nothing out here to be scared of, just the ghosts that haunted them as they slept, but these were the moments where she loved him best. When he prowled in silence, coiled and ready to spring, watching the world around them with eyes a stormy blue, ready to keep them safe.

Shaking her head at herself, she got up and stretched. It felt good to reach up towards the sky and feel her body come alive one muscle at a time. It was such a normal thing to do but it was a luxury, a mind alteringly beautiful luxury to be able to stand up and stretch. She was mindful to never take it for granted ever again.

Walking silently through the mainroom, Felicity followed Oliver’s soft footsteps to the rear of the cabin. She paused at the french doors and watched him. By the set of his shoulders, she could tell he was pensive but calm. Something had woken him up and pushed him out of bed. Something had once again pulled them apart.

He was trying though. Trying so hard to be rooted and present for her. As much as she loved him for it, she wanted him to be rooted and present for himself first and foremost. They needed to figure out how to be separate, complete people or they would tear each other to shreds trying to be who the other thought they needed without first being who they need to be for themselves.

She watched him look up towards the sky and caught sight of his profile in the cold light of the moon. He looked unfocused, lost, and it broke a little piece of her heart. When he thought no one could see him, he let his guard slip and she saw the vulnerable man whose heart had the capacity to love without limits. He had pulled her through hell by simply by loving her. It was such a beautiful gift to share with her, one that she honoured in the best way that she could even if right now it was all she could not to drown under the weight of it.

These few days together were meant to be a way to reconnect and relax away from the pressures of their vigilante nightlife. Felicity looked around the room, with its large windows and bed, and felt her mood shift from one of melancholy to one of longing. Yet still, with her hand on the door, she hesitated and reflected back on the dream she had awoken from. If what Death had said was true, they both needed to save themselves.

Quietly, she opened the door and stepped outside onto the deck. The night air was cool, the ocean breeze was gentle now that the storm had blown past. In the distance, off towards the city, she watched lightning dance across the sky, blue and white streaks leaping from sky to earth. Oliver was engrossed in whatever had woken him up and hadn’t heard her.

Calling quietly to him in an effort to snap him back to the present, Felicity waited. With a smile, he reached a hand out to her, beckoning her to join him on the steps of the deck. Smiling, she joined him and tried to coax the reason for his rising out of him. He reluctantly admitted it was a bad dream but held the details of what that meant to himself. Part of her wanted to dig the truth out of him, find the cracks in his resistance and pull his walls apart but not yet.

_Not yet, she thought as she laid her head on his shoulder and felt the wind on her face._  
_Not yet, she thought as she sunk into the heat of his body._  
_Not yet, she thought as she felt him relax into her, but when?_

When he suggested a dip in the hot tub, she jumped at the chance. It was exactly the way to end a day that had felt out of kilter but was now slowly coming together. Instinctively, she pulled him into a long, firm hug. Oliver didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her and together they stood under the emerging stars and held onto each other as tightly as they could.

Felicity slipped back inside to grab candles and change out of her clothes while Oliver got the top off of the tub and got the water started. While she was rummaging in the kitchen for matches or a lighter, Oliver called out that he would meet her in the tub. She laughed to herself and shook her head, he was a study in efficiency. She had no doubt he had the tub ready to go and himself stripped down within seconds of her entering the cabin.

Peering out the bedroom windows, she saw that she was correct in how fast he was able to get from changing inside to out into the tub. In the cool light of the moon, he looked otherworldly to her. He was all sharp angles and hard corners. His eyes, she knew from experience would be slate grey and achingly alive.

She pinned her hair up in a low messy bun, slipped into her robe and walked out to join him. Their teasing came effortlessly and when she slipped the robe off, she watched his expression shift and change in the flickering candlelight. She was under no illusions when it came to the effect the sight of her, nude in the moonlight, had on him. Felicity slipped into the hot tub and inwardly groaned at the perfect feel and temperature of the water.

Seizing the moment, Felicity pressed Oliver just a little more about the dream he had earlier. She knew it was tempting fate, like waving a red flag in front of a bull, but she felt she needed to try. He cried in his sleep. Quiet tears, sometimes tears of frustration, sometimes tears so full of pain and sorrow she wasn’t sure if he would survive the night. If she could get him to open up about this one, maybe the next time it happened he would trust her with what was trapped deep inside his mind.

Oliver spent a minute to just look at her. She watched the quick calculations going through his mind. His eyes were the colour of slate in the moonlight, mesmerizing and stormy blue, but he smiled just enough to set her mind at ease. With a practiced reach, he gently ran his fingertips down the side of her face and slowly told her about what part of his past the dream was from.

Her curiosity got the better of her. She had always wanted to know how he got the burns on his back. They were deep burns, ones that must have hurt for months, but his skin was waxy almost soft. Someone had tended to them with a gentle healing hand and not once had he ever volunteered how they happened or who looked after him as he healed.

So he told her. At least he told her the bare bones of the story of how he got them. It was a story rooted in the darkest part of his mind, of his past. It was from a time when nothing made sense in his life, when all he knew what to do was survive. Sometimes from hour to hour, minute to minute. She had tried to imagine the way it must have been back when he was in Russia, with the Bratva and all he had to do to survive, but listening to him speak now she knew she hadn’t even scratched the surface.

He told her everything about how the burns happened. The torture, the pain, the way he almost died from the infection, and how he wouldn’t be alive without the healers from the Bratva. Yet, even with the story of his survival, that still isn’t what he had been dreaming about earlier. Little by little she watched him shut down.

The moon found his angles but the candlelight always found ways to soften the planes of his face. She watched the light move across his skin. Every time he moved, his face changed. She watched his face reveal itself one story at a time. Sometimes, when words failed him, he would only have to look at her and she would know what he was trying to say, every word and nuance. Nothing went unheard even in the silence as it flowed between them.

When he flipped the the script on her and pushed to know what she dreamed of on the nights she cried out in anguish and grief, she shut down. He pushed her, challenged her, and she felt a flair of irrational anger. Not necessarily at him but at the events that had pushed them to their limits emotionally and physically.

The air sparked and crackled with tension around them and Felicity felt a rush of sadness. This was not what she wanted, for them to both shut down when saying the actual words was so important, so necessary. It was as though they were spinning in different orbits, falling away from the gravity that held them together. She wanted to reach out to him but was terrified he wouldn’t reach back.

He always waited for her. Everything had to be equal between them. Oliver was determined that this time, their second chance, would be the one that took. She loved him with a ferocity that ignited every cell in her body even when the distance between them seemed insurmountable. So when he reached for her this time, she reached back without even thinking, running her thumb over the backs of his knuckles, searching out the tiny scars and injury thickened bone.

Felicity allowed the currents in the water to move her closer to him as he teased her gently about what making up was like when they argued. She deliberately stilled her forward movement so she could straddle his lap. Up close, his eyes shone and the light from the sky above smoothed out all of his scars. From a few inches away, she watched his eyes dilate and felt the way his body shifted in reaction to her closeness. When he pulled her hair free, she forgot for a moment where they were as she felt a flush rise up her chest.

Neither one of them made a move towards the other. The build up of energy between them was growing at an exponential rate. Her skin felt alive and all she wanted was to feel his skin, taste his lips and pull him into her body, to feel as much of him as she could. Before either of them could move, the sky rumbled to life.

Oliver wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her from the tub in one elegant movement. He mistook her shivering for her being cold and tried to warm her up by using the large, fluffy towel to dry her off. She could smell the musky, masculine scent of him and knew they should probably hurry but the flutter in her stomach meant they should probably be taking it slow.

Escaping into the cabin, Felicity had an urge to draw things out a little longer so she could get some of the strawberries she spotted in the fridge. If it ever came down to a choice between sex and strawberries, she wasn’t sure which one would win out in the end. When Oliver came into the kitchen and remarked on her ability to keep eating, she mentally put an additional check in the strawberry column. The look of horror on his face was reward enough.

They debated what movie to watch as she sliced the strawberries. So long as it wasn’t Bruce Lee, she was fine. It was stretch the evening out a little longer and, given their history, that was bound to be rewarding. But then Oliver moved too fast and caught his towel on the edge of kitchen counter and it was like her blood started to roar through her veins.

There was no avoiding how physically powerful and beautiful he was with his battle trained and hardened body. She had admired him from across the various lairs and bunkers over the course of three very long years. He was hard to ignore when he was doing the salmon ladder shirtless in front of her but now, she didn’t have to watch and pine. So when that towel slipped, and she caught sight of how the muscles in his torso formed a deeply cut V over his hips, and the lithe way he moved when he walked, the strawberries were forgotten and she followed him into the bedroom.

Felicity didn’t often get the chance to catch him by surprise but this time she did and she decided to take her time. She loved every inch of him. The way his skin felt under her fingertips. How his breathing changed when she traced his largest scars. The low growl in his throat that would sound from him as she stroked his skin.

In that moment, as she gently found the seams on his overlapping scars, the ones that raised up and out of his skin, she could feel the heat that was radiating off his body. His eyes were closed as she ran her hands over his chest, down his arms and then around to his back. Oliver’s muscles were relaxed but twitching under her patient touch but still he waited.

Reaching between their bodies, she took hold of him and steady, but gently, stroked him until he was hard. His low moan, his hands in her hair, and the way their bodies started to vibrate the air between them signalled that getting to the bed was what mattered. She let her robe fall away and felt the way his gaze turned from one of naked desire to one of worship and adoration.

Straddling his hips, she slowly moved her own. Feeling the hard length of him with each sinuous movement. When he looked at her like she was Goddess, it turned her heart inside out. She didn’t yet feel like she deserved that adoration, not yet, maybe not ever, but the least she could do was try to be worthy of the love he was so freely offering.

Felicity knew that until they were willing to share the contents of their hearts with each other, nothing between them would ever be equal. But that didn’t matter right then as she took his large, handsome face in her small hands and pulled him into a kiss that shattered the last of her resistance. Pushing herself up so she could look at him, she had to smile, every inch of him was a roadmap of survival. The beauty of him, beyond the mesmerizing blue eyes, broad shoulders and square jaw, was that he had survived and that deserved to be honoured.

When she kissed him next, it was with a deepening passion. His hands roamed over her body, setting her senses ablaze, she knew she had to slow them both down. Deliberately, she moved down his body, treating him to the kind of attention he almost always gave her. He rarely let her do this but when she was determined to, she did. She loved the way his cock felt in her mouth, especially when he was so rigidly hard that she could feel how his muscles twitched and jumped and she alternated the way she stroked and sucked him.

When he forced himself up to sitting, she smiled as she joined him. There was something about the way she took control of his body with her mouth and hands that proved too much for him almost every time she did it. It was not something she ever teased him about but it was something she took tremendous pride in. With practiced ease, she helped guide him into her body and then coaxed him to hold onto her as tightly as he could.

This was her favourite position. Sitting astride his lap, she was able to wrap her legs around his waist and used the leverage of being on top to control the pace and rhythm of their lovemaking. She knew if she slowly ground her hips against his, making small thrusts and her body pressed to his, that the heat between them would erupt. When he sucked her bottom lip in time to the movement of their hips, she felt the moan building low in her throat and was powerless to stop it as it rolled out of her, primal and full of lust.

Without a hint of warning, Oliver flipped them so that he was on top but she kept her legs wrapped around his waist, locked together at the ankles, and kept control of every shared movement. Felicity allowed herself to focus on one thing only and that was him. The way he felt as he thrust inside her, matching her intensity and strength, and how his lips felt on her skin. Then her mind went blank. Her body betrayed her and her orgasm ripped through her.

Vaguely, she remembered hearing herself whisper in his ear to keep going, not to stop, to show her how much he loved her. She could feel his heart beating through his chest, his breath on her neck and she came again, pulsing and hot, her body shuddering like an earthquake was trying to rattle her bones loose. Then, as she told him she loved him, his hips slammed into hers and he came in a heated rush, moaning into her neck.

Intimate wasn’t strong enough a word to describe what had just happened. It was intense, erotic, fierce, emotional and empowering. It kept the sorrow in her heart at a distance for just a period of time. Until he slowly, almost reverently, traced the shape of her face with the tips of his fingers. It was as though he was pulling the sorrow back to the surface of her heart. He leaned across the small distance between them and gently kissed her.

All he was trying to do was show share with her how much he loved her in that moment. She could feel it, all the tenderness, love, and respect. Yet underneath all of that, buried where he thought it was safe, was a well of loneliness that continually threatened to engulf them both. It was the one thing that they circled around, careful not to slip into the gravity of its orbit. But tonight, it pulled the sorrow out of her, leaving her bereft and consumed by guilt.

When she suggested a shower, he leapt at the idea. If there was one thing they both enjoyed, it was their love of washing the other. It was a ritual of intimacy that she had never shared with anyone else but him. He displayed his desire to get there by scooping her up and carrying her over his shoulder to bathroom. She had a love hate relationship with him carrying her. It brought back painful memories of her the time she spent adjusting to life in the wheelchair, of thinking that was going to be her life forever.

Those memories of panic and helplessness, of the recovery and attempts at acceptance until she finally found the foundation she needed in order to rebuild, sometimes came flooding back. Sometimes after a nightmare about Havenrock, she would forget she could walk and she would lie in bed trying not to scream in frustration. It would only be when the muscles in her legs would jump that she would remember she could walk again.

When Oliver carried her, it awoke the helplessness and panic but also a sheer lust. It was sexy and hot. His physical strength was something that always made her weak in the knees and when he carried her like this, in a fun and playful manner, she pretended to protest but did so in jest.

When he put her down to admire the shower and warm up the water, she slipped out of the room and quickly gathered a set of candle and some matches. Candle light was called for and the bathroom, with it’s skylights and reflective surfaces, was built for it. Felicity loved the way he looked in their warm glow as the light rolled over his body like a molten liquid. He was breathtakingly beautiful to her but she knew all he saw was the scars that linked his past to his present.

The shower was perfect. Holding her face up, under the waterfall showerhead, she lost track of time as Oliver washed her body. She felt her muscles loosen as she relaxed under his hands. It put her into a trance so all she felt was his hands on her body. It rejuvenated her and stripped her bare at the same time. She felt safe and loved, protected and worshipped.

When it was her turn to wash him, she explored his body, taking more time to appreciate the way his body felt as he relaxed under the heat of the water and the way she moved her hands over him. She felt his body begin to shift in tension and when he tried to step away from her, she stopped him by stepping around him and pressing her body against his. When she took his cock firmly in hand and stroked him until he was hard under the hot, falling water.

He lowered his head and groaned. She quietly told him to hold onto the walls, to let her do this. Felicity knew this wouldn’t take much time when his legs started to shake and his hold on the walls became one of survival. She was tracing one of the smaller scars on his back with the tip of her tongue when she felt him shudder and then he came, in hot, long spurts, with a loud moan. She placed a tender kiss in the centre of his back and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close.

For a moment more, they stood under the hot water, bodies pressed tightly together but for all the physical closeness, Felicity felt the gulf of distance that still existed emotionally between them. Even after such tender acts of love, they were holding themselves back in an ever widening spiral that was pushing them further and further apart. She loved him but more than that, she was in love with him and believed in all the things necessary when tying your journey to someone else’s.

When Oliver stumbled out to he living room to dampen the fire and turn out the lights, Felicity made her way back to the bedroom and climbed into bed. It was like climbing onto a cloud the way the it molded to the contours of her body. She slipped over to her side of the bed and pulled the duvet up over her. She looked out the window and watched the rain fall in huge droplets that drummed out an ancient rhythm on the earth.

She wanted to stay awake because he wanted to tell him a few small truths to help ease his mind. To bring him closer instead of just within reach. If he heard her say the words, of how she fell in love with him gradually but with every part of her body, mind and spirit. That even in the moments where she thought she had lost him forever, she know they would find their way back to each other in whatever life came after this one. She wanted him to know it, to feel it, and understand that she would tell him the rest of it when the searing pain of grief had dulled.

She heard him slowly walking back to the bedroom but sunk below the surface of sleep before he reached her. Exhaustion from the day, the emotional and physical toll of it all, reared its ugly head and made staying awake impossible. Felicity knew the words could wait, they were timeless and would follow her to the place in time where they could be said. For now, sleep was what was needed and she gratefully surrendered.

 

II

_Felicity landed in a firestorm. The place she associated with the beginning of her current story but she knew, deep down, it began long before the bomb fell. But her dreams always brought her to the moment of impact, the time of death. She no longer fell to her knees in agonized despair but her heart would shatter each time._

_The molten hot air slowly cooled and the dust fell to earth. She was back in Havenrock’s crater. TIlting her head up, so could see the deep blue sky come into view. It was a different colour everytime she woke up here. Once it had been translucent and the infinite darkness of space could be seen leaking through. Another time it had been angry swirls of purple and red with violent lightning bolts bouncing from cloud to cloud._

_Just once she would like to wake up at home. Somewhere safe and secure, away from the clutter of life. But until this part of her story was complete, she would always be here. In the centre of her greatest failure, the tragedy that had ripped her heart and mind apart._

_It was quiet. Not a bird sang, no wind through the trees, not an insect, no human voice. It was an area devoid of sound but not light. The sun was bright here. It saturated the air, gave it weight and form. It was the only thing that was real enough for her to recognize and not panic. It was not a comfort but it was familiar._

_The earth beneath her feet began to vibrate. She watched the dust begin to rise. As she looked around, the air began to ripple around her and the light changed. It was deeper and for the first time since walking into the dream, she could hear the sound of wind through the trees. She was taking herself somewhere real, where life still existed._

_“Hello, Felicity,” came a deep, resonate voice from above her._

_Looking up, she spotted Dream as he slowly descended to stand beside her. He was in his usual black velvet coat that shifted as though it, too, were alive. His hair was jet black, like the darkest part of the night sky, and his eyes...she couldn’t stop staring at them. They were alive with the light and life of the universe._

_“Hello, Dream,” she said warmly. He was not an unwelcomed visitor in this space as it was truly the space of reality that he governed._  
_“I would rather we spoke somewhere more comfortable. Havenrock is not a place of peace,” Dream said softly._  
_“It is becoming a touchstone,” she said regretfully._  
_“That can and will change. Give it time,” he said encouragingly._

_The scene coalesced and Felicity recognized it immediately. The were standing in the living room in Ivy Town. Felicity took a deep breath. Lilacs, roses and apples were the first things she smelled. When they had moved in, in late summer, the garden was in full bloom. It had overtaken the garden doors in a network of interlocking vines, some so thick that Oliver had to saw through them in order clear the way for them to use the patio._

_They had filled vases throughout the house with fragrant flowers for days and days. She had even pressed a few in secret so that if they ever left this house, she would have a physical memory of it forever. Felicity had loved the Ivy Town house but it was never really their home. They were still searching for that place that would embrace them as they would embrace it._

_“Both you and Oliver have the same emotional memories of this place,” Dream mused._  
_“It was a really important place for us, it was a place of some healing that we both needed,” Felicity explained, “It was a fun place to hide away from the world for a while.”_  
_“It was peaceful but ultimately unfulfilling,” she said sadly, “If we had stayed, I often wondered where we would be now.”_  
_“Do you think you would be happy?”_  
_“Probably,” she answered slowly, measuring her words as though each one said would be the last, “but I suspect we would have been bored.”_  
_“Bored?”_  
_“You may have noticed we are people of action.”_  
_“Oliver, yes. He is even in motion when he is still,” Dream agreed, “But you are different. You are in motion constantly inside your mind.”_  
_“The side effects of working with computers,” she chuckled as she walked around the living room, stopping periodically to reach out and touch various items. All their pictures were there and some of the small knick knacks they had picked up from all around the world._

 _“This was never to your home,” Dream agreed._  
“ _How would know that?” she asked reflexively. Sometimes she asked questions before thinking if the answer would be something she wanted to hear._  
_“Because you are still ill at ease. If this was home, I would be able to see it on your face. So far, I do not see it.”_  
_“No, and it is not a place we can ever return to,” she said sadly, “and the loft...it is too cold, too many unhappy memories.”_  
_“You no longer consider it home?”_  
_“I guess I don’t. I feel like it is a place I sleep in but I don’t live there really.”_  
_“What is it you are looking for?” he asked._  
_“I don’t know. I think I am waiting to be ready for it before I look.”_  
_“What about Oliver?”_

_Felicity paused to look at the Immortal beside her. The dream had taken on a very different feel then she was used to. She was being lead somewhere but wasn’t sure she knew exactly where. Regardless, it was comfortable and she felt as safe as she had ever felt._

_“Oliver needs to find his foundation,” she said._  
_“Hmmm,” was all Dream said._  
_“No question as to what I mean?”_  
_“I think Oliver needs to find what you are referring to but I also think he needs to find something else,” Dream conceded._  
_“I’ll have to ask him what that is, won’t I?” she asked._  
_“I think he will tell you before you have to ask. The real question is will you tell him what you are seeking.”_  
_“Me? Seeking? What am I seeking?” Felicity asked in complete confusion._

_It was Dream’s turn to pause and look at the mortal beside him. Felicity caught sight of his bemused expression and felt herself blush. Of course she knew what he meant but the idea that she was seeking anything other than peace sometimes took her by surprise._

_“The box. You think I am seeking the box, don’t you?” she asked with a sad smile._  
_“I think you are trying to find peace from what’s in it, but know that what you seek is within it.”_  
_“I wish your sister was here to translate for me,” Felicity grumbled._

_Dream snickered catching Felicity completely by surprise._

_“I do wish Oliver had your sense of humour,” Dream said with a genuine smile._  
_“He has a remarkable one but is reluctant to let it shine free,” she chuckled._  
_“He hasn’t had a lot to be happy about in the last decade. He has you but he has not found his own inner happiness yet. Soon, I suspect, but not quite yet.”_  
_“That’s what he is seeking? Inner happiness?” she asked._  
_“That’s part of it but I am not here for him. I am here for you.”_  
_“So I guess we need to go to wherever I stashed that box,” she said nervously._  
_“Yes, we do. It will only take a moment,” he said._

_Felicity felt a cool, ancient hand on her back and the scene rippled and changed around them. Gone was the soft perfume of lilacs and roses, the gentle embrace of the Ivy Town home and all the memories she and Oliver had left behind. What replaced them was the insistent smell of green and the sound of fast moving water._

_They were in the Memorial Park by the river in Star City. Felicity felt an instant, oppressive sadness. Oliver had built this park for the victims of the bomb in Havenrock, for her, for him and for the city. It was peaceful, not mournful, but it still filled her with a small sense of dread when she was here in her dreams. Anything could happen in this space and that was where her unease came from._

_“I love this park when I am awake,” she admitted._  
_“It is incredibly restful. Oliver paid you the highest respect by building this,” Dream said approvingly._  
_“It destroyed me at first but after a while, I felt compelled to be here as often as I could,” she said sadly, “I felt I had to be here. No matter what.”_  
_“I watched your dreams on those long nights,” he said with a sadness that bruised her._  
_“Out of curiosity?” she asked hesitantly._  
_“No, not that. Concerned and wary.”_  
“You need to explain that,” she said with a slight chuckle.  
_“Wary because it would be very easy for you to get lost in the maze surrounding the way out of grief. I have seen it happen before with beings in possession of lesser minds than one such as yours.”_  
_“I sometimes feel like I am only one or two steps ahead of falling apart,” she admitted while she walked towards a low, stone bench by the river, “but after what happened with the sledgehammer, office wall and my hands, I have learned to be stronger.”_

_Together, the unlikely pair sat quietly beside the rushing water. It was strangely muted. Felicity looked around and saw they were alone in the park. The leaves in the trees were moving in the gentle breeze but she couldn’t really hear them. Normally, she could hear almost too much in her dreams. She looked at Dream and put two and two together._

_“Why do you keep the sound muffled?” she asked._  
_“You noticed extremely quickly,” Dream commented._  
_“I take it you do so for a reason.”_  
_“Let me show you.”_

_Without moving, Dream pulled the wall of silence down. It was chaos. The city rumbled to life in the distance, a deep throated growl of exhaust pipes on cars, the high pitched wail of horns and squealing brakes, and the long, mournful blast of the fog horn far out in the bay to guide the enormous cargo ships into port._

_Nearer by she focused on the sound of the wind rustling the leaves on the trees high above and the bushes behind them. The scent of flowers, too many to name, saturated the air and clung to her skin. The park was in full bloom, blazing with life and energy, but naturally quiet. Oliver had chosen so perfectly when he picked this space._

_Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Felicity turned and saw Oliver. She almost stood up to wave to him but felt the weight of Dream’s hand on her arm, keeping her rooted in place. So she watched him from a distance as he walked along the forest path. He looked happy, relaxed and content. A life unencumbered by violence and pain looked good on him._

_“Why can’t I call to him?” Felicity asked, not taking her eyes off of him._  
_“Because this is your dream. He is just a fragment of memory here,” he answered as he once again blocked out all sound from around them._

_Felicity watched him fade back into the green lit shadows. Smiling to herself she thought of just how appropriate it was for him to fade to green. He looked so at peace with himself and the world she had placed him in. While it was sad to watch him go, she knew he was beside her in bed, just on the other side of the veil._

_Turning back to Dream, she caught him looking at her with a strange expression on his face._

_“What?” she asked nervously._  
_“You and Oliver have very similar ways of seeing each other,” was all he said._  
_“How so?”_  
_“You both see each other free from trauma but still together. I watched you interact with beings of far greater power and age than myself and my sister and through each meeting, you both held true to the reality you were creating together.”_  
_“He and I have...had our moments,” she laughed quietly._  
_“You spoke with a Goddess that created Death,” he said in admiration._  
_“She was lovely.”_

_Dream looked at Felicity and gave her a small smile._

_“Come, Felicity,” he said standing up, “We have something to find.”_

_Reluctantly, Felicity got up and followed Dream back into the heart of the park, to the memorial that contained an actual box within it. The one Oliver had put in it when he had constructed it. She remembered very clearly the night he had told her about it, what was in it and why he had put it there._

_It contained hope._

_There was another box hidden beneath the stone memorial. One that held something far more painful and dwarfed the park in terms of its size and scope. Felicity wanted nothing to do with it. She knew it would burn her hands, her eyes, her heart. It was the one thing she hid from Death, the one thing she had refused to discuss or process with her._

_Dream brought her straight to it and waited._

_Shaking, Felicity knelt on the cool, damp earth and dug into the soil at the base of the memorial stone. Without having to look, she found the box a few inches below the surface and pulled it up, hot and wailing, from the cool soil. Cradling it close to her chest, she stood back up and waited._

_The voices came slowly but they marched steadily towards her. Old, young, some accented, some not. But each one belonged to a person, a person who no longer drew breath or occupied space on the planet. As energy they had begun and to energy they had returned. Yet each was unique and deserved to be remembered._

_“You have to let them go, Felicity,” Dream said._  
_“I don’t know how.”_  
_“Yes, you do. What is it that you are so fearful of inside that box?”_  
_“That what’s in there is more than just them, the people of Havenrock,” she said softly._  
_“You’ll never know until you open it.”_  
_“Why can’t Death be here for this? Why did she need you?” Felicity asked._  
_“Because she couldn’t lead you here. She could only remind you. My sister is trying to do what is best for you.”_  
_“So you lead me to the box, she takes possession of what is inside it should I allow it to be opened.”_  
_“Correct.”_

Felicity hugged the box to her chest and stared at the ground she had pulled it from. She knew her fear of letting go was irrational and she was baffled by her own reticience but still she clung to it. The knowledge of the dead, their lives and names, that was something she guarded with a fierceness that bordered on obsession. She wasn’t sure what Dream or Death knew, but she was certain that Oliver had no clue she would sometimes recite the names of all the dead on the nights she was alone.

_“Come with me, Felicity,” Dream said as he reached out his hand._

_Without thinking, Felicity took his hand and the world dropped away beneath their feet. They rose high above the city and Felicity watched the mist swirl in from the bay beyond the bridges and mouth of the port. Bit by bit, the scene folded in on itself and they were in the secret courtyard garden Oliver had created for her but the mist remained._

_It smelled floral and sweet. A combination of sweet peas and roses, one that was hypnotizing and perfect after long nights underground. But she was confused as to why they were here and not at the loft or cabin where she lay next to OIiver, sound asleep in front of the fire. It was confusing after the solemnity of the Memorial Park to be in the intimate serenity of this special garden._

_“Why are we here?” she asked quietly._  
_“Because this is where you need to be.”_  
_“You sound like your sister,” she smiled, “But why here and not with Oliver at the cabin?”_  
_“This is more than just a physical place, Felicity,” Dream explained, “it is also one of the rooms you keep memories in, deep within your mind. One you cracked open in real time but one you now need to let go of.”_  
_“Let go of? Here?” she asked._  
_“Yes. Look around.”_

_Felicity did. The mist had cleared and she saw what it had been hiding. The walls that normally surrounded the garden were gone and what ringed them were not bricks and mortar walls but thousands of silent people. Each one staring at her, waiting for her to say or do something but she was too terrified to move._

_“What do they want?” she asked, clutching the box even tighter to her body._  
_“To be set free. Oliver can feel them all around you, everyday. They never leave you, Felicity, you bring them with you wherever you go and here, I can show you the effect they are having on the rooms you pull from when you dream,” he said as he cast what looked like grains of sand into the air around her._

_What they did was blaze to life in front of her eyes and she saw what was happening to her dream world. One by one, the rooms that held the happiest of her memories were falling dark. Not forgotten but dark, dimmed and cold. The one that worried her, that reached her more than any other room, was the link between her and Oliver. Then one that was part of him as it was part of her. It was fading from view as the souls of thousands of people crowded it out of view._

_Her dreams leapt from one room and one room only. It was the one that connected Havenrock to the Memorial Park. It was the only room lit from within and the only one where the path to it was clear. Felicity felt the pressure of fear and grief in her chest. How could she let go of something that had become part of her?_

_“How do I do this?” she asked, “How do I let them go when they are my responsibility?”_  
_“They aren’t your responsibility, Felicity. They are Death’s.”_  
_“But how do I do it? How do I let them go?”_  
_“The next time Oliver asks you about your dreams, tell him. When he asks you about Havenrock, tell him about the names you recite when you are alone.”_

_Felicity felt the panic of helplessness rush through her. How could she tell Oliver about this? About her ritual? About the box she held the pain of her actions in? Especially when he thought it was dealt with after the courtyard? It was like she was lying to him with each small avoidance and change of subject. She was insisting on honesty from him while hiding her truth when he asked the same in return._

_“Child, you dwell too long in despair,” Dream said softly, “You can only stay in my younger sibling’s domain for so long before she will come to collect the price you will have to pay. When she does that, Death will greet you.”_

_Silently, Felicity began to cry. She knew the price for her continued silence was her life but when she needed it the most, her voice failed her. She was still clutching the box of souls to her chest when Dream reached out and placed a cool hand on the back of her head. Felicity felt nothing as she fell back into the darkest levels of sleep where nothing could find her._

 

She awoke with small start, momentarily confused as to why her face was wet and when she reached for him, why Oliver was no longer next to her. She laid quietly in bed, feeling how cold his side of it was, and wondered what time it was and how long he had really been gone. Her dream came flooding back to her as she silently watched the rain fall but she pushed it out of her mind. There would be time enough for that in the days ahead.

Getting up, she stood still and listened. Only the sound of the rain and distant rumbles of thunder reached her ears but she saw the warm glow of . Spying Oliver’s discarded hoodie on the bench at the end of the bed, she slipped it over her head. It smelled exactly like him. Masculine and earthy, like the woods after a soaking rain or day under the hot sun.

As silently as she could, she made her way out to the living room and found Oliver asleep on the couch. She didn’t know what had driven him here, either her dream or one of his own, but the room was warm meaning he’d been here for a while. Every part of her body screamed to go to him. She could feel the way it squeezed around her heart, bruising her when now should be the time when they were reaching for each other instead of for safety.

She wanted to wake him up and tell him about the dream that woke her. To finally let go of the dead and find a way to bridge the widening distance between them. Still, she held back. There was time for that conversation tomorrow. Right now what mattered was what pushed him out of bed and away from her once again.

At some point after rising, he had laid a small fire and brought a pleasant, almost joyful warmth into the room. She smiled, sleepy and sad, when she thought of all the times he had managed to do that simply by being present next to her. He saw himself in such dark shadows that he forgot about what a force of nature he could be in her life.

Calling to him to see if he was awake, she was relieved that he was when he called back to her, coaxing her to join him in front of the fire. She made her way carefully over to him and found her favourite place to cuddle into his side. Sometimes it took some shifting and fidgeting but, as he pulled the woolen blanket up over them both, she found the places where his body instinctively yielded to hers and settled in.

Gently, she asked him what had gotten him up, if it was a nightmare or the storm as it blew over them. He had wrapped his arms around her, sheltering her from the ghosts and memories that competed for her attention, and tried to reassure her that he was fine, that there was nothing to worry about but his faltering voice gave away his uncertainty.

Felicity sat up and studied his face in the golden glow of the fire and saw not a relaxed, contented face on the man she loved but one that shifted between worry, guardedness and sorrow. He was holding back. All of it. But all that ceased to matter the minute she saw the dried tears on his cheeks.

She asked, prodded and cajoled but he refused, insisting that everything was fine. Insisting that he was fine. Pushing herself away from the warmth of his body and safety of his arms, she refused to accept his answer. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he now shifted away from her, his walls coming up in order to keep her out.

Exasperated and tired, Felicity pushed back. She knew it was all reactionary, that she trying to get him to do what she knew she should be doing but she persisted. When he pushed back, directly and with purpose, she felt a flare of anger. It was a like a whip slashing through her. She wasn’t ready in that moment to tell him why she woke up any more than he was ready to tell her why he woke up.

In his own anger, he spoke directly, plainly, to her and lit a fire under the issue that underpinned everything keeping them apart. He was asking for her to open up and share with him and she was refusing, continually shutting him out. How could he trust her with the fear in him when she wouldn’t trust him?

In frustration, Oliver got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen, blindly reaching for a glass and filling it with water but leaving it untouched on the counter beside him. She took in the square set of his shoulders, the way the muscles in his back bunched in tension and relaxed as he breathed through the anger. When they started to shake just enough for her to see, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body as tightly as she could to him and mourned the distance that had unmoored them from one another despite the love they shared.

Oliver turned around within the circle of her arms and wrapped her in his arms, returning the gesture she was making with one of his own. Resting her head against his chest, she listened to his heart. It was one of her favourite sounds in the entirety of creation. At night, if she awoke from a nightmare without waking him in the process, she would lay her head on his chest and listen. The sound of his heartbeat rumbled through her, vibrating her entire body until she relaxed and fell back asleep.

Right now, his heart was beating faster than normal and his body was shaking. Something was gearing up to burst out of him, she could feel it seething under his skin. And then he began to speak. The words, halting and quiet, were ones that he needed her to hear and they hurt. She felt herself stiffen and she tried to pull away.

He had dreamt about her and Havenrock. He had felt the weight of all those souls as the past through him as they searched for a way to the other side of life. All that grief had coalesced into a singular form and come to rest on his heart as it rested on hers. At first, she was stunned, not understanding how he could know but considering who she had been sharing her dreams with, it made sense that they were talking to him, too.

She pushed away and looked up at him. The agony of her experience was etched on his face. Not the entirety of it but enough to show her that he had felt that cold breeze, the one that accompanied every visit to the heart of her greatest sorrow. When he reached out to her, she immediately reached back, pulling him as close to her as he pulled her to him.

She knew he wasn’t telling her everything he had seen and experienced, but that didn’t matter just then. It was 4 am and they still had two days of solitude and quiet to work through the largest gaps between them. She pulled his head down, intending to just kiss him lightly to reassure him but she felt the heat of need pulsing off of him. It matched the towering wave of grief that she could feel crashing out of her.

His breath was fast and hot against her skin and all she wanted was to feel his skin, to taste him. They pulled each other into a long, deep kiss. When her hands found their way under the waistband of his sweats, he had his hoodie up and off her and had picked her up in a matter of seconds. She wrapped her legs around his waist but when he bent her back and his lips and tongue sought her nipples, she heard herself utter a primal moan that caused Oliver to hold her tighter as he stumbled to the couch.

Astride his lap, she moved her hips hard against him, feeling him grow harder and harder with each grinding thrust. He kissed her until all the air in her lungs was gone, until all she could do was gasp and wait for him as he pulled his pants down past his hips. There would be no waiting, no foreplay, this was all about connecting, skin to skin. It was about need and love and desire and forgiveness.

It was about the two of them.

When she felt him enter her body, she hooked her feet over his thighs and took over. The only sounds in the cabin, besides the occasional crack of the wood in the fireplace, were the sounds of their breathing, the ways their bodies sounded as they connected, and the small cries of passion they uttered as they made love. Felicity let the world fade away and focused on Oliver; his mouth, hands, the way he felt as he thrust inside of her and the building pressure and spreading warmth in her pelvis.

All of this was about pleasure and sex. Felicity felt her orgasm building and knew it would roll over them both in a matter of minutes. She gripped him with her body, pulsing with intensity and heat, and met him thrust for thrust. When words failed them, their bodies took over. Sex became the link that closed the gap, that allowed them to find their way back to each other. They were relying on it almost exclusively lately and while she knew that it wasn’t sustainable right now, as he moved so deep inside her.

Just as she suspected, her orgasm burst through her. Her hips bucked and her body shuddered but she didn’t stop. She gripped Oliver as tightly as she could and as a deeper, infinitely more intense orgasm released itself. Her back arched, pushing her body tighter against his, and then she felt him swell and throb as he came as she pulled him deeper inside her. She loved the way it felt when he came like this, wild and uncontrolled.

She laid her head on his shoulder, trying to catch her breath, when she was overwhelmed by love, grief, guilt and a need to apologize to him for not respecting his boundaries, regardless of his pushing against hers. She could only take responsibility for herself and the desire to find a way through her own nightmares but still felt the sting of having hurt him. Tears started to fall and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

Oliver wrapped a blanket around them and cradled her, rubbing her back to calm her down. She tried to apologize but he deflected and made her laugh. He had a knack for slipping past her defenses and putting her at ease, even in her darkest moments like this, he was her peace of mind. But she knew there could be no true reconciliation between them without the allowance for forgiveness and the healing, redemptive power of love.

With a bit of gentle coaxing, she got him to recite a poem from the book she had given him. He tried to hide it but he had the soul of a poet underneath all that muscle and grit. There were moments when he would say something, a turn of phrase or gentle thought, and the words would wrap themselves around her heart. He brought her such comfort and joy and there were times when she was sure that he could strip away the scar tissue and help walk her into life, reborn and renewed.

So she listened to him recite a poem by Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz that he had told reminded him of her the moment he read it. His voice, soft and low, flowed around her, cushioning her as she relaxed into the welcoming warmth of his body. Her last thought before falling into dreamless sleep was that fear was stopping her from letting Oliver in and accepting all the love he was offering her. She had to give up the power of holding all those souls captive in her heart to fully appreciate love’s promise with Oliver.

When the words stopped in the moments where they could endure the silence, there lay all of the pain that their hearts and minds could hold. Some day, that space was crowded with so many different voices and experiences that it was like being caught in a whirlwind full of debris that battered and bruised them.

But then the storm would pass, leaving them feeling empty and with a gut wrenching longing to overcome the distance and damage they inadvertently caused one another. This time Felicity vowed to listen. She had looked into Oliver’s eyes and saw his need to speak. She watched the words forming in his eyes, all the things he most wanted to say. Maybe, if she gave him the space to tell her the story bubbling to the surface in his mind, she could find the courage to speak the words that contained her truth to him. As she drifted off to dreamless sleep, she finally allowed herself to accept that she knew he could hear the two words she was too terrified to say: help me.

 

III

It was the persistent call of songbirds deep in the forest that woke her late the next morning. Felicity didn’t immediately open her eyes, she let herself surface to being fully awake and listened to the world around her. The sound of the waves crashing on the shores was hypnotic and provided a beautiful rhythm that played underneath the higher, sweeter notes of the birds and wind as it danced through the trees. She was momentarily confused by her surroundings. When she fell asleep, she had been sitting on Oliver’s lap, warm and safe. Felicity smiled as she envisioned Oliver having to find a way to stand up and then carry her back to bed. He was strong enough to do it and to gentle enough to do it without waking her.

Taking a deep, Felicity caught the soft, slightly antiseptic scent of cedar from the surrounding forest, the evocative smell of the fireplace in the living room and the beckoning aroma of coffee. Oliver was up and in the kitchen, awake first as always. He slept a specific amount, never more although sometimes less, and rarely was late to rise. One day she hoped to beat him so that she could finally try to make him breakfast. She had secretly been practicing and was almost ready to attempt it again.

It still felt early, so Felicity stayed cocooned under the duvet and watched the light change as the sun rose in the sky. It was cloudy but bright. She hoped it was nice enough to go for a walk down to the ocean’s edge. She loved the smell of the air on the shore and the feel of the salt spray on her face if the wind was blowing hard enough.

“Hey,” Oliver said from the doorway, “Are you awake yet?”  
“Sorta,” she said from beneath the duvet.  
“Come on,” he laughed softly, “your favourite breakfast is waiting for you.”  
“You didn’t!” she said. Sitting up, she let the duvet fall down to her waist, forgetting she was nude from the night before. When her eyes focused, she saw the slight flush rise up his neck to his face and the way his eyes dilated. She sometimes forgot the effect she had on him.

“I did,” he said softly, “homemade Hollandaise and I even steamed some asparagus.”  
“I love you!” she exclaimed as she vaulted out of bed, slipping on a pair of leggings and hoodie.  
“You just love me for my cooking prowess,” he teased as he caught her in a hug before she could slip past to get to the kitchen.  
“Well, that is one of the reasons,” she said as she looked up at him.

He rewarded her with a smile and then did exactly what she thought he would do. He slipped his feet under hers and walked them out to the kitchen. It was endearingly sweet and playful in a way that let her know if they ever had children, he would teach them to walk and dance on the tops of his toes. She heard and felt it as though it were an actual memory. The feel of soft, tiny hands gripping fingers, the tinkling sound of laughter from a tiny body, the warmth of love shared by more than two.

One day, she thought, when it is time to hang up the hood and put the computers away. One day the time will be right for thoughts of family.

“So what’s the plan for the day?” he asked when they sat down to eat.  
“I don’t know. I am going to have a shower, that’s about as far as I’ve gotten,” she admitted with a smile.  
“Solo or…?”  
“Solo!” she laughed, “I have lady things to do.”

Oliver just smiled and shook his head. If truth be told, she would love it if he joined her but she did have things to do and would rather not have an audience. All of that slipped from her mind as she ate. She loved his version of Eggs Benedict and talking took away from her ability to savour the richness of every bite.

“If they weather holds, let’s go down to the beach,” he suggested, “I’ll pack a lunch and we can make a day of it. Or at least a morning of it.”  
“I love that idea,” she said as she finished up her breakfast, “I’ll be reasonably quick in the shower. Have you had one?”  
“I did. I contemplated a run but I think I’ll wait until later to do that.”  
“You are a machine, Oliver.”  
“If I don’t stay trim and fit, you’ll leave me for a younger man.”  
“You got that right!”  
“Oh Felicity...you wound me,” he said in faux disappointment.

With a sly smile, Felicity crossed the short distance and gave him a kiss and hug. “I think you’ll be fine for a few years.”  
“You are terrible but lovely,” he grinned, running his hand up under her shirt.  
“Oliver,” she sighed, “Later.”

Reluctantly, she pushed out of his embrace and made her way to the washroom. The shower was exactly what she needed. The hot water relaxed her and she started feeling herself, more centred and suddenly resolute. Today was the day, she decided as she washed her hair. She would tell him about her dreams and the ways he was so correct in what she was still feeling. It was also time to tell him about the Endless siblings who were there with them both. As she finished her shower, she was sure more than ever that this was going to be a tough but good day.

“Hey Oliver!” she called from the bedroom as she towel dried her hair.  
“Yeah!” he called back.  
“What’s the weather like out there?”  
“Cool. Wear layers!”

A few minutes later, Felicity rejoined him. He was standing at the rear of the living room by the french doors, the diffuse but bright morning light illuminated him in such a way that it stopped her in her tracks. He was deep in thought, which lent a tightness to the set of his eyes, and a slight down turn to his mouth. Whatever was going through his mind was troubling him but still, despite the seriousness of his expression, he was still so beautiful to her eyes.

“Hey,” she called softly, “Ready?”  
“Yup,” he said, snapping back to reality, “I think the sun is coming out over the water, so let’s go.”  
“Thank goodness I brought my rain jacket,” Felicity said while she waited for Oliver to slip on the backpack with their lunch in it, “Are you going to be ok in your’s?”  
“Mine is waterproof, too,” he reassured her, “and I found this huge umbrella in the closet under the stairs.”  
“You are a marvel,” she mused.  
“So I’m safe for a few years?”  
“I think so,” she smiled, slipping her hand into his as they left the cabin and headed down the path to the beach, “I think you’re safe even if you go grey.”  
“You like silver foxes?” he ribbed.  
“Only you.”  
“You angling for a promotion down in the bunker?”  
“Oliver, I run the bunker.”

She laughed as he rolled his eyes at her. So much of the tension from the last twelve hours had worked itself out of their systems as they slept. She felt lighter, better able to handle the pain that was always threatening to flood her senses but the fear was gone. She had made it through to the other side of it, was seeing her future, their future, and life in small glimpses and had to hold herself back from running straight for it. It blazed as bright as the sun just beyond her grasp and all she wanted was to run towards it.

The walk to the beach took them through a small section of forest. They made the journey in silence as they paused a few times to take in the natural beauty of where they were. The red cedars were enormous. True old growth forest so close to home. They towered above the earth, some up to seven or eight stories high. Felicity felt minuscule in their presence.

Eventually, the forest gave way to smaller plant life. Small shrubs and beach grass grew in the sandy soil closer to the water’s edge, and still dwarfed both Oliver and Felicity. They rounded a small dune and the coast was in front of them. It was magnificent. They stood side by side and stared. It wasn’t a swimming beach but it was a surfing one. If it was warmer, she would have suggested a swim at the very least. For now a walk and lunch would be just what the doctor ordered.

“We should head over to that cove,” Oliver suggested, having already scoped out a spot about half a mile away.  
“Your eyesight is scary,” she commented with a shake of her head.  
“Just follow the terrain,” he encouraged, “the way the beach curves and bends. The cliff walls will shelter us from the wind and let the sun warm us and the sand up.”  
“You learned this where?”  
“On Lian Yu. From Yao. He...he was a good teacher.”

Felicity looked up at Oliver and smiled. It was getting easier for Oliver to talk about Yao and his time on Lian Yu. Next up, she hoped he would open up about the Bratva and his time in Russia. That time forged him into the steely man he was when she met him. He had been so inflexible, sneaky and hard in a way that left him unable to truly connect with anyone in his family. Slowly, over time and in small, direct ways, she had worn all those defenses down and had fallen in love with the man he had forgotten he could be.

Slipping her arm around his waist, they quickly fell in step as they walked down the beach towards the cove. It was cool but the sun was slowly burning away the morning mist and clouds and warming the air up. The day was looking like a good one. She was ignoring the twinges in her leg because she knew it was just the nerves essentially waking up. Her physiotherapist had warned her that some days would take longer than others for her to get moving and today was a reflection of the day before.

“How are your legs today?” Oliver asked, eerily perceptive as to her thoughts and state of mind.  
“They are ok, fully functional,” she fibbed.  
“You’ll let me know if that isn’t true before you collapse in searing agony, right?”  
“Yes, of course,” she said reassuringly, “I’d rather not have a repeat of yesterday.”  
“Felicity...that,” he paused, searching for the words, “that was terrifying but I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for you.”  
“I’m sorry,” she said reflexively, “Paul seems to think that things will settle down over time. They have but some days…”

Oliver responded by pulling her closer to him. It was instinctive and it comforted her right when she needed it. She had never asked just how it affected him when he saw her like that. She had hid most of the bad days from him but the last two days had been an eye opener as to how things could sometimes be for her.

“Promise me that you will never hide it from me. I know you can take of yourself but I need to know,” he said seriously.  
“I will. I absolutely promise,” she said, “And you need to tell me how it affects you. Don’t keep that bottled inside.”  
“I won’t. I promise,” he said gently, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.  
“Did we just have a break through?”  
“I think we did. Time to celebrate,” he laughed.  
“Well, we are at the cove and we do have all day…”  
“Insatiable. That’s what you are. Insatiable.”  
“I’m talking about the food in the backpack, Oliver. There are other things in life besides sex.”  
“...are you sure?” he asked uncertainly.  
“Sucker.”

With that, Oliver picked her up fireman style and half walk, half jogged to the cove. It was a mercifully short journey. When he let her down, she started to gear up to lecture him when he took her face gently between his large, scarred hands and kissed her. It was tender and heated, gentle and frenetic, chaos and order all at once. It was like a whirlwind blowing through him to her but the calmness and peace that followed left her breathless.

“I love you, Felicity,” he whispered, his mouth a mere inch away from hers, “I don’t say that nearly enough.”  
“No, you don’t,” she agreed softly, “but when you do, it makes my heart feel so good.”  
“I never thought I’d ever be happy to just sit and watch the waves,” he smiled.  
“Oliver Queen, my favourite romantic,” she laughed.  
“Careful,” he growled, “Or I’ll carry you back.”

Felicity laughed and kissed his cheek before slipping free from his embrace and spreading the blanket out on the sand. The cove was sheltered and warm with a clear view of the roiling sea. This part of the coast was wild and untamed. It was the perfect backdrop for their relationship and the conversations that were brewing between them, ready to burst out of them in a towering wave.

“Oliver, can I ask you something?” she asked as she got comfortable sitting between his legs.  
“Sure,” he said as he waited for her to lean back against his chest.  
“When I was in the wheelchair, we never really talked about the possibility of me being in it forever. We always talked about me getting out of it, of finding a way for me to walk again. I never really asked you how you would feel if that didn’t happen and then Curtis made the biochip. It all happened pretty fast. So...if I hadn’t been able to walk after it was implanted in my spine, did you ever think about that? And what that would mean not just for me, but for you?” Felicity asked in one big rush.  
“I did,” was all he said.

Felicity waited for more but none was forthcoming. He simply left it at that and rested his head on top of hers, watching the waves in their relentless journey from far out to sea to the shore. His was solid against her back, usually not an ounce of give, but now he softened at her touch and it sent a shiver through her that he could be so gentle. She wasn’t willing to accept his simple two word answer, not for such a large question that could still be part of their future.

“Oliver,” she coaxed with a gentle nudge of her elbow, “you can do better than that.”

Oliver chuckled and kissed her cheek. She knew he was thinking, so she let him, waiting in silence and watched the waves rush over the shore. It was hypnotic and relaxing. After a few minutes, he began to speak.

“I did think about it. I still do. About the changes we would have had to make to how we lived. A new apartment or house. One that you could access every part of without my help. I thought about giving up being the Green Arrow permanently. Of working with you to start your own company. I thought about all of that but not once,” he said pulling her closer, “did I ever think of a future without you in it. Whenever I thought about what I could do, you were always part of that equation. In a wheelchair or out, you are...you are a force of nature, the best person I know and nothing can ever change how I feel about you and what our future could be.”

They hadn’t talked about their future often. They were keeping things firmly rooted in the present as they tried to get their relationship back on a solid foundation. Felicity wanted to talk about what was to come but held back, still unsure about how he felt about her involvement in the destruction of Havenrock and all the stories he had yet to share with her of his murky, violent past. Yet there, on this windswept beach, he began the conversation and her heart soared.

“You showed me what courage and strength actually are, Felicity, in a way I didn’t know existed. I used to see them as rooted in actions, like what Speedy, Dig, and I do every night, but you showed me it is so much more than that,” he continued, reaching for her hands, “When you almost destroyed your hands, I really, fully saw the way you were holding onto Havenrock and how I hadn’t taken into account the lasting impact of William on you. You were hit with so much in such a short time frame, I didn’t know what to think or do…”  
“Oliver,” she said, leaning back to look up at him, “you stumbled a few times but you figured out what to do without me telling you how to fix it…or us.”  
“I let you down when those missiles were released. I let you down when I lied over and over about William...I was so wrapped up in myself that I forgot you were right there with me.”

Felicity brought his scarred knuckles to her lips and tenderly kissed them. He was diving deep into something big and she didn’t want to stop him. When it was her turn to speak, she wasn’t sure she could be this brave. Turning slightly in his embrace, she laid her head on his chest and waited.

“When we were out in that cabin,” he continued.  
“You will have to be more specific,” she chuckled.  
“The first one, the one we were trapped in because of that crazy storm,” he laughed.  
“Oh that one! Yes, I remember that one,” she said softly.  
“I thought I had lost you for good,” he said with a slight hitch in his voice, “I thought then that all that I kept from you was enough to end us. For good.”  
“I can’t lie, Oliver, it almost was but your persistence and patience eventually won me over,” she smiled.  
“Not my charm?”  
“Oh, Oliver…,” she said with a sad shake of her head.

He responded by poking her in her ticklish sides and holding her tight when she laughed helplessly in his arms. She loved this side of him. It was new and so free from the baggage of everything they had between them. Settling back into him, they watched the ocean rise and fall. They sat in quiet reflection, watching the sky change between shades of blue and clouds boil to life far out over the horizon. Felicity could feel Oliver’s body shift and grow tenser as he waded back into his voice.

“I need to tell you something about when you first were paralyzed. I spoke with your doctor just after you came home. I asked her about...about a lot of things,” he stammered.  
“Like what?” she asked, genuinely curious.  
“Like...sex and how we could have it. When we could and what I needed to do so that it would...you would...we...it…,” he sputtered, a blush colouring his skin a deep red, rising up from his neck to his cheeks.  
“Oh my God, Oliver!” she laughed, “You should see your face!”  
“Felicity…,” he growled.  
“You are...turning...so...RED! The Red Arrow?” she chortled.

To stop her, Oliver lowered his chin to the crook of her neck and rubbed his four day old stubble against her skin. It sent her into shrieks of laughter and she squirmed out of his embrace just enough so that she was laying across his lap. Felicity pulled his face around and kissed him with passion and desire. They broke free to catch their breaths and for a moment just stared into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you for doing that even if things went sideways before you could put your wonderfully thoughtfully sought for information to good use,” she said softly.  
“Felicity, I would do anything for you.”  
“And I you,” she responded, feeling his sincerity all the way down to her toes.  
“But I’m afraid that if I tell you what I need to tell you, you won't think very highly of me for a very long time,” he said with the murky grey of sorrow colouring his voice.  
“Oliver, for four years we have seen the best and the worst of each other. I know that your time in exile was five years of I don’t even know what kind of terrible but nothing you did then can change who you are now, here with me,” she said feeling suddenly helpless as she watched his eyes dim, reflecting the deep blue of the ocean.

Oliver looked out beyond the horizon. It was like he was searching for something in the space between the earth and the galaxy. Felicity followed his eyeline and saw only the hazy blue of the sky. Whatever it was he was gearing up to tell her was big, maybe the biggest thing he had ever told her. Sitting up, she rearranged herself so that she could lean back onto his chest. It would give him the necessary comfort and distance so that he could speak freely.

“When I was in Russia, I had to prove myself to the Bratva. It was the only way I could get close enough to kill Kovar. By being the monster they needed, I could get to the monster who brought me to them. One of the things that I had to do was...was brutal,” he began in a halting tone, “I have been dreaming about it for a few days now but in an interesting way.”  
“How so?”  
“I’ve...had help,” he said bashfully.  
“I swear to God, if you say Coyote…,” she muttered.  
“No,” he chuckled, “not Coyote. But a being...an Endless one.”

Felicity sat straight up and turned to face Oliver. She peered at him closely and knew exactly who he was talking about. He had met Dream and Death.

“You, too!?!” she exclaimed.  
“Wait...no,” Oliver said in disbelief, “Not this again.”  
“Stranger things have happened,” she laughed.  
“Well, settle back down,” he said, opening his arms to her, “and let me continue.”  
“Yes, sir,” she said with a clumsy wink.

The wind picked up just a little bit and Felicity felt the spray of the water reach them. It was a beautiful day but she could feel the tension coming out of Oliver, he was a tempest, a storm, gaining power the longer he remained silent. Whatever he was holding in was big and she needed to give him the space to speak it.

“So Dream...you met him? And Death?” he asked.  
“Yup. Separately, though,” she said with a small smile.  
“Me, too. I liked them.”  
“Me, too,” Felicity smiled.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver continued. “There is one thing that happened when I was with the Bratva, when I was trying to prove to them that I was ruthless enough to be part of their organization and a Captain...It helped make me the monster that I was when I came back.”  
“It ties into how you got those burns, doesn’t it?” Felicity asked quietly as she stroked the backs of his hands.  
“It does. It was my response to getting them that I buried deep in my mind. So deep that I forgot how to locate that night, in my memory, which is why I needed help. What I did to the man who tortured me…,” his voice grew dark, like a distant rumble of thunder threatening an even larger storm, “I was ruthless, Felicity, I became...a monster. More vicious then I was the night you were shot when I threw a dozen of Darhk’s men off of rooftops after beating them half to death with my fists and feet.”

“What did you do, Oliver?” she asked, feeling the cold rush of fear blow through her. He was leading them somewhere dark and sinister. Somewhere cold and unforgiving. But the journey had begun and she couldn’t stop it now.

She could feel the change in the rhythm of his breathing. He was on the edge of panic, so she brought his hands to her lips and kissed the insides of his wrists, something that usually tamed him when his self-discipline in remaining stoic and calm failed him. She felt him breathe out a sigh of deeply felt relief and he rested his head on hers. Felicity decided to ask another question, to set his mind at ease. Something less direct, just to keep him talking.

“Why did Dream come to you?”  
“I haven’t been sleeping well the past week or so, you may have noticed,” he said with only a trace of sarcasm, “I had kept the memory of that night so tightly locked away that all I could hear when I slept was the sound of that man screaming but I could never find him. I was waking up in terror. Like when I first came back from Lian Yu.”  
“So Dream helped you open the door to that memory?”  
“Yes, he did. He helped me find it and face it so that I could tell you, to let you into the darkest part of me, to trust you with something that stole...my identity.”  
“What happened in Russia, Oliver?” she asked carefully, still unsure if he was going to actually tell her.

“One night, after I had healed and was on my feet, ready to begin my plan to take down Kovar, I had to prove my allegiance to the Bratva,” he began slowly, deliberately and cautiously as though testing the depths of water where the bottom was lost to darkness, “Anatoli sent me to find the man that had tortured me. He had broken our code, the Bratva code, and had to be made an example of in whatever way I wanted to. It was a test of my loyalty and to see if I could work with the others as their leader. So, I found him. He had been hiding deep in the Siberian wilderness. His mistake was in ordering vodka from a regular Bratva supplier. Once I had his coordinates, I gathered my men and went to where he was holed up. This...piece of shit one room cabin with a wood stove, no electricity but a spectacular view of the Taiga forest. We scoped it out during the day and then arrived at night. We stormed it, just ripped it apart and got him.”

A cloud passed over the sun, sending the beach into shadow. It felt like a portend to Felicity, that things were about to get very dark in the story Oliver was telling. She remained silent and waited for him to continue.

“We took him deeper into the woods. Beside a small stream,” he said in a haunted voice, “I had my men string him up by his wrists and made sure his ankles were tied to spikes in the ground so that he formed an X as he was suspended from the tree. I removed his clothes, his eyes, his tongue, his genitals, his skin and his humanity. I removed chunks of muscle like I was butchering a deer. It took me three hours and in that time the last piece of me that was human joined him in the grave. My men were terrified of me, I was covered in his blood, steaming in the cold night air...but I earned their allegiance and their loyalty. I left him to rot, hanging from his skinned arms.”

Felicity felt ill. She had expected something bad but not this, nothing like this, never anything like this. She could vaguely picture it but the way Oliver was gripping her hands and the tight, coiled set of his body as he held her, told her all she needed to know about the shame and guilt he was carrying about this one brutally violent act.

“I can’t, for the life of me, remember the man’s name or what he looked like. He is a bloodied blur in my memory, but I can remember the sound of his voice and the way he screamed for me to stop. I didn’t hate him. He broke our code in the Bratva and for that, he died,” he said in a low, flat voice.  
“Oliver…”  
“No, let me finish,” he said with some conviction, “I hid from that memory for almost 6 years. I pushed it away because it was...it was unimaginable that I could do something as violent as that. I left Russia and went back to the Lian Yu. I...I needed to try and undo some of the damage Waller and Slade and the Bratva had done to my sense of self. I was so lost that I couldn’t tell who Oliver Queen was anymore. I was the Monster and then The Hood. I knew I had to regain some semblance of my humanity before returning to Starling. To my family. But even in doing that...I failed.”

Felicity was struggling to stay focused on his words but her chest constricted in panic with each new admittance. She knew that his time with the Bratva had been brutally hard, full of pain and violence. But this...this was something that went beyond that. It represented a part of his fall into a darkness so intense it swallowed any light that came close to it, a place within him that he had kept hidden from everyone until now and for good reason. She kept silent to let him finish his story because she wasn’t sure what to say to him, not yet.

“I keep circling back to Havenrock in my mind. About the depths of grief you have been swimming in and Felicity, I may not quite grasp the scale of it, but I do grasp the impact it has had,” he said earnestly, “As your dreams intensified and the distance between us grew over the course of the last month, this dream got more play inside my head. I had to open the door to it, live with it for a while, so that I could talk about it and what it did to me.”  
“So you could let it go,” she said with dawning realization.  
“Exactly,” he said quietly, “I have to let it go or it will eat me alive. I can’t survive another night of that man’s howling screams. I also can’t imagine what my life would look like without you but I had to tell you. I needed to tell you because I trust you with the darkest parts of me.”

She blinked a few times after he finished speaking, tried to get her heart beat under control and find her voice. He had shared with her his darkest story, not a secret, but a sad and brutal truth. It was woven into the fabric of who he was, a black thread amongst the green and white, that spoke to the man he had envisioned himself becoming but not the man he was.

“The last dream I had of him and that night, I spoke with him as he hung from the tree. I wanted to remember his name and his face so I gave them all back to him. I replaced his humanity and he was still a nameless man. One of many I killed on my journey to where I was when we met,” he said sadly.

Felicity had heard many tones and colours in his voice before but never the sadness that flowed out of him now. It was like he was resigned to a fate that hadn’t yet been decided but one that meant the loss of her. She studied his hands with eyes that blurred with tears. The man that loved her with such gentle tenderness was also a man capable of acts of brutality that didn’t just border on being nightmarish, they dove below the surface of violence with a comfortable ease that sometimes frightened her.

Not because she feared for her safety but because she feared for his sanity. He slipped so easily into the shadows that lurked within him still. One day he would find a way to balance out the darkness and the light, to merge the two into a comfortable space where he could feel confident in who he was at any given moment. But this story of the man in the forest was him telling her of his most profoundly felt shame. Of his biggest step away from his own humanity.

But somehow, he had made it back not only to his family and the city, but to himself. The tears that trickled down her cheeks weren’t for some faceless gangster in Russia but for the man who was so broken he allowed himself to bend, to twist into the monster he thought he was supposed to become. The Russian paid for that transition of Oliver moving from man to villain.

Oliver’s arms loosened from around her and she felt the shift in his body as he made to move away from her. She was powerless to stop him and frozen in indecision. A million variables raced through her mind but when he made to get up, she reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling him back down, preventing him from leaving the blanket and her.

“Oliver,” she said quietly, “what you did to survive in an environment designed to break you piece by piece amazes me every day.”

She felt the push of his chest against her back as he took a deep, shuddering breath. Still, his arms remained slack around her. To encourage him to respond, she stroked the backs of his knuckles and very carefully selected the words she was about to use.

“When you...when you killed that man...,” she began, suddenly unsure if the words would come.  
“Flayed. I flayed him alive and let him bleed to death hanging from a tree,” Oliver corrected her in a flat, lifeless voice.  
“Ok,” she said slowly, feeling vaguely ill at the description, “when you flayed that man in the forest, you were who you needed to be in that moment. Oliver, you have this amazing ability to shift between identities. I’ve watched you do it clumsily and with finesse for almost five years.”  
“This was different, Felicity,” he said in a monotone voice, “I felt nothing when I butchered him. Another human being.”

It was as though he was unconsciously attempting to sever their connection and Felicity was determined to prevent that from happening. Acting on instinct, she dropped his hands and turned around to face him, forcing him to accommodate her sitting essentially cross legged with her legs around his waist. It was a not so subtle reminder of the night before and her favourite position to make love in. Oliver refused to meet her eyes, he was embracing her again, partly out of habit, and as the seconds ticked by, seemed to relax just a tiny bit.

“Oliver, look at me,” she said sternly, “I mean it, look at me.”

Her heart felt close to breaking when she saw the struggle on his face. It took him a full minute to look her in the eyes. When he did, concern mixed with sadness and love rolled across his face in equal measure. She had forgotten the tears that must be flowing down over her cheeks.

“Felicity…,” was all he could say before his voice betrayed him and broke.  
“Shhh,” she said softly, taking his face between her hands, “I know that you flipped a switch when you went to Russia, that you went there for a very specific purpose, to fulfill your promise to the woman who helped you on the island. I know that somewhere along the way you let go of your humanity. You had to in order to survive. I get that. And yes, that story is horrifying but that isn’t who you are. Not anymore.”  
“But I was that man, for a very long time, he is still part of me,” he said sadly.  
“I know and I mourn that fact for you, with you,” she said, pulling his gaze back to hers, “but I mean it when I say that you haven’t lost me, Oliver. You won’t.”

For a moment, only the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore could be heard. Felicity was holding his gaze, making him see that she was telling the truth and not trying to placate him. She lent him the strength he needed in those fleeting moments where the the desire to run back to the island was so great, she felt his muscles twitch.

“I can’t pretend that I’m not disturbed by what happened to you in Russia or what you did in that forest. All of it. The beatings, torture, and killings. It was a barbaric experience. I can’t pretend to ever know. But it forged you into the man I fell in love with,” she said in a near whisper, “Somehow, you left that man, the one who flayed another man alive, behind on that goddamn island. You pulled yourself apart and put yourself back together again. Sure you are missing a few parts but you are still healing.”  
“Just a few?” he asked with a slight smile.  
“Well, now that you mention it,” she smiled back.

Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You amaze me.”  
“Good. Now look at me,” she said seriously, only willing to continue once he opened his eyes, “I love you, Oliver. The good and the bad. But...thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me. For making it...important enough to where we are and where we are going to tell me. Maybe now we can work on healing that memory instead of just letting it out to forget it.”

The smile she was rewarded with outshone the sun and for the millionth time she wondered just how lucky she truly was to have been rewarded with the love and affection of this man. That he had decided to trust her with this story, as devastating and horrific as it was, moved her. Her time would come but for right now she wanted to honour the courage it took for him open the door to the part of him that by definition was more monster than man.

Looking at him now, at how far he had come in his own recovery, scraping and clawing his way back to humanity, she couldn’t help but feel more than a little bit awed by the strength within him. He often talked about her courage and strength in the face of odds so big most people would cave under the weight of it. Yet here he sat, battle hardened but so passionately alive, and waited for her to judge him on past actions.

“Oliver, I can’t and won’t judge you based on what you had to do to survive. Your time in the Bratva...they left their mark on you, I know that. I can see it in your eyes and on your body everyday,” she said earnestly and plainly, needing him to hear the sincerity in voice, “but here you are now...so beautifully alive. Focus on the good within you and maybe together, we can find a way to help heal the bad.”  
“I thought, if i told you that story,” he said in a voice choked with shame and grief, “that you would run from me.”  
“Not a chance, mister,” she murmured, leaning in to gently kiss him.

It was a soft kiss, one meant to set his mind and heart at ease, to impart on him that forgiveness was freely given, but he pulled her tight against him and slipped his tongue past her lips. It was instinct for her to open herself to him and she did, gently sucking his bottom lip before running her tongue between his top lip and teeth. They had shared all kinds of different kisses in the past but this one was unique amongst them all.

For all of his heart ache and indecision, this kiss connected them. She felt it, like a thunderclap, all the way through her body, down to her bones that rattled and shook causing her to vibrate at a different frequency. She heard, more than felt, them fall into sync once and for all. The pain of their past, the lingering hurt of lies and actions pushed out of their control didn’t fade away, they became part of the tapestry they were weaving together.

Pulling back to catch her breath, Felicity looked him in the eyes and asked, “Have you ever thought about if you could go back and do this all over again, that you wouldn’t get on the boat, then Lian Yu, Hong Kong, the Bratva, none of it, would have happened...if you had the chance do it differently, would you? Would you change any of it?”

“Even with all the pain and horror I went through, I wouldn’t change a thing,” he said softly, “because every step I took, every choice I made lead me to your cube. To you. To this moment. My life would have been empty if I had changed even one decision.”  
“You don’t think we would have found each other eventually?” she asked with a small smile.  
“Maybe, but you know me,” he said gently, with a sly smile and wink, “I’m a slow learner when it comes to matters of the heart, or so Dig has told me, it would have taken decades.”

Shaking her head, Felicity laughed. His self-depreciating sense of humour always made her laugh. Kissing him soundly on the cheek, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. Oliver responded by doing the same and they sat that way, wrapped around each other for what felt like a lifetime.

“Should we have some lunch?” she murmured next to his ear.  
“Look up at the sky,” was all he said, and so she did.

The once blue sky was now dark with ominous clouds. Neither one of them had noticed as they spoke but now the world around them came back to life. The waves were crashing hard on the beach and the wind was picking up. Storm season had arrived to the coast by the looks of it but the one coming looked tame in comparison to others they had seen.

“We should probably get back to the cabin,” she suggested.  
“I think you might be right. Want me to carry you?” he asked, side eying her.  
“If you even think of carrying me, the things I will do with your remaining inheritance from your parents will make you wish you had never been born.”  
“I don’t know whether to be terrified of your insane intelligence and ability or completely turned on by your ruthlessness,” he mused thoughtfully.

Standing up, Felicity casually brushed her pants free of sand, looked Oliver dead in the eye and said, “Both would suffice.”  
“Felicity Smoak, if I haven’t already said this once today, I love you.”  
“You have but I’ll allow it a few more times,” she laughed, reaching down to help pull him to his feet.  
“If we hurry we can be back before it starts raining.”  
“I can smell the rain on the wind,” Felicity said softly, as though trying to hide her knowledge from the storm.  
“Let’s get a move on, you walk really slow in the sand.”  
“Oliver, one day…”

Laughing at her attempt at toughness, Oliver slung the backpack of food over his shoulder and reached for her hand. She knew him well enough to know if she didn’t take it, he would sling her over his shoulder. He had done that to her on beaches in Bali, Positano, Thailand and once in Ivy Town one afternoon when they went out for a walk. He never carried her for long, as it was mostly done to prove to her he could, and ever since she regained the use of her legs, he had only done it when he perceived she was being difficult on purpose. He was usually right but she would never admit it to him.

Eying him up and down, she took his hand and commented, “You are so lucky I am a patient woman.”  
“I agree,” he smiled.

Walking out of the protection of the cove, the wind whipped past them, almost knocking Felicity off her feet. The storm was coming fast but luckily they made the half mile walk to the pathway through the forest in good time. Once within the shelter of the trees, the wind died away and while they could hear it, it wasn’t whipping past them, tearing at their clothes and skin.

“That was crazy!” she exclaimed as they made it through the forest. Making her way up to the deck, Felicity stripped out of her rain jacket.  
“It was,” Oliver agreed, “Hey, Felicity?”  
“Yeah?” she answered, turning around to face him once she reached the second step of deck.  
“Thank you,” he said in a voice that had weight and gravity. It pulled her to a stop.  
“For what?” she asked softly.  
“For listening to me,” he said, reaching for her hand.  
“Oliver, I will always listen to you,” she said reaching back, “I’m just glad you trust me enough to tell me. Now let’s get inside before the rain comes.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” no sooner had he spoken when the the sky opened up and the rain came down in a heavy, steady stream.

“Well, that was quick!” she laughed as they made it inside before getting soaked.  
“So, fire and lunch?”  
“Yes, please,” she smiled broadly.

While Oliver dealt with the fireplace, Felicity made coffee and gathered plates and cutlery for lunch. She had no idea what to bring out so she grabbed two of each and hoped for the best. Her one wish was that he had made something good, like burritos or a pita wrap and not something like salad. Especially kale salad. Oliver sometimes made it in an attempt to get her to eat something healthy but she hated it more than Malcolm Merlyn.

When she turned around, she spied him sitting lost in thought in front of the fire. He was staring at the flames as they grew in size but he wasn’t seeing them. She was suddenly fearful that he was retreating from her just a little bit. He had shared with her his deepest, darkest moment and act of violence. It would be natural for him to feel a second wave of fear and regret. The one good thing was that they were here, alone, together and not somewhere he could retreat physically from her.

Quietly, she crossed the living room and sat down on the coffee table behind him.

“Hey,” she said softly, “where’d you go?”  
“I...I was just thinking about all the ways this morning could have gone wrong.”  
“Oliver,” she said taking his hands in hers, “the only way it could have gone wrong would have been if the storm had hit mid-story. We would have been soaked and cold and interrupted.”

Oliver smiled at her, then stood up, pulled her to her feet at the same time, and fiercely hugged her. He was trembling, the emotion of the last couple of hours finally working through his system. Felicity held him with the same intensity, trying to give him what he needed without saying the words.

She felt his hands in her hair and tilted her head up so she could see him. Gently, he removed her glasses and set them on the table behind her. There was something so deliberate about the way he was moving and the intensity in his eyes, that she watched him in silence, not wanting to break the spell he was casting.

As the fire crackled into life behind him, Oliver lowered his head so that their mouths were a few inches apart, she could feel his breath on her lips, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks, and the world, piece by piece, tumbled and fell away from around them. Reflexively, she gripped his shirt and tried to pull him closer, so there was no distance between their bodies.

She looked up into his eyes and saw love, respect and desire reflecting back at her. Before she could say a word, he kissed her and set her soul on fire. His lips parted and when his tongue touched hers, she let out a low moan that rumbled through both of them. All conscious thought ceased. This was more than a kiss. It was a covenant, an oath sworn only to her, of all the things to come. When he deepened it, all she could do was hold on as he crushed their bodies together.

Felicity pushed her hands up under his sweater, desperate to feel his skin, and kissed him back with the same intensity. The coffee, the food, the storm, all of it forgotten in her quest to feel his body. She felt a tug at her own sweater and lifted her arms so that he could pull it over her head. She heard his slight intake of breath when he saw she wasn’t wearing a bra and then his hands, running down her arms, cupping her breasts, before his lips were crushing hers.

“Take your shirt off,” she whispered against his lips, “I’m not tall enough to make you.”  
“I think I can manage that,” he smiled.

With his arms above his head, Felicity gently kissed the scar where Ra’s Al Ghul’s blade had sliced through his body. She felt him pause and heard the sweater and shirt drop to the floor. Moving her head to the right, she kissed the length of a knife scar, left by someone in the Bratva or Star City. She had lost count of how many injuries he truly had but would always honour the old ones even as new ones crisscrossed his body.

“Felicity,” he murmured, “I think lunch will have to wait.”

She was smiling when he kissed her again. Slowly, he was moving them towards the couch, which was about the furthest she could walk. Between his hands and mouth, she was mesmerized and trembling, waiting for whatever for what he would do next. Her skin felt feverish, prickly and sparking with energy. Every time he touched her, a shiver would run down her spine. Longing, desire, passion and love all competed within her. Oliver was deliberately moving as slowly as possible, not saying a word as he explored her body with his hands, as he kissed her until she was dizzy and murmured words of love in her ears.

“Lay down,” he coaxed when they finally reached the couch.

Without a word, but with a small smile, she laid down and did not once breaking eye contact with him. The midday light, shifting but diffuse as the storm moved overhead, moved around his body, making him glow around the edges. She was about to reach for him when he slipped his hands under her and slowly pulled her thick leggings and underwear off.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered.  
“You are overdressed,” she smiled.  
“For the moment,” he said with a wink before silencing her with another soulful kiss.

Felicity ran her hands down his back, lightly scratching a meandering pattern as she did, causing Oliver to moan, low and deep in his throat. She was sure it moved the tectonic plates beneath them as it rumbled through her body like an earthquake leaving her feeling the heat of the kinetic energy left behind.

Stars exploded behind her eyelids when she felt his fingers slip between her legs. He was so slow and deliberate. Circling around her sensitive clit and stroking down the length of her. She could feel the tension beginning to build low in her pelvis and tried to keep her hips moving just as slowly as his hand was but when he gently eased first one finger, followed slowly by another, inside her, she felt herself coming unglued.

The languorous pace he had set was making her focus on every movement he was making. When he pulsed his fingers forward, hitting nerve endings rarely engaged, she gasped at the way pure pleasure flooded her body. He was using his thumb to keep the same pulsing rhythm on her clit and had yet to take his lips away from her mouth, neck, or breasts. She needed more but he was only allowing her so much. When he was in full control, he was powerful, seductive, and so gentle it drove her into something approaching a feral, primal state of mind.

She was close to weeping in frustration for the want of him, that when he stopped and slipped off his pants, she almost did. She watched him from behind half closed eyes and marveled at the way his muscles moved. He was otherworldly in the firelight.

“God, Oliver,” she gasped as he parted her legs by using his body, “this is going to kill me.”  
“Do you want me to go slower?” he asked while he tenderly kissed the tender skin below her navel.  
“I…oh God, Oliver,” she moaned when she felt first his mouth cover her and then the tip of his tongue circle her clit in tighter and tighter circles before thrusting inside her. She felt reality tilt sideways when he replaced his tongue with his fingers. The change in sensation and intensity caused her to go limp in ecstasy.

He was keeping her on the edge of a precipice. She gripped his hair and tried to move against his mouth, tried to get him to increase the pressure of his tongue on her clit or rhythm of his thrusting fingers inside of her. Still, he held fast to his unhurried pace, never once giving her the chance to take control. That would come later, she knew, so right then she was trying to be content and follow his lead.

Time ceased to have meaning as he rasped his tongue hard against her only to gently lick and suck her the next. Her mind expanded with each touch, she felt every nerve ending in her body sing with energy and could feel her orgasm ready to uncoil, setting fire to her blood. He growled and the vibrations that rolled over her were so intense, she failed to feel him remove his mouth and fingers from her. When his lips covered hers, his tongue coaxing her lips apart to slip inside her mouth, she could taste herself, salty and sweet.

“Oliver,” she whispered, “you are amazing.”  
“Flattery will get you whatever you want,” he whispered back.

She could feel how hard his cock was as it nestled against her. He was slowly moving his hips just enough to create some friction between their bodies. Every part of her wanted to reach between them and guide him into her but she was limp underneath him. Oliver returned his hand between her legs and stroked her until her head fell back and she moaned, primal and unhinged. Felicity was close to begging him when he finally thrust inside her.

At first, her body resisted him, creating a kind of tension that drove her wild, but then relaxed to mold around him. Rolling his hips, he twice thrust hard and then remained buried deep inside her. The couch was making it hard for her move against him but before she could say anything, Oliver resumed his slow and deliberate movements with his hips, his pelvis meeting hers with each thrust.

“Oh God, Oliver,” she gasped, her face pressed against his, “I love you…”

She wrapped her legs around his waist as best she could and tried to meet him, thrust for thrust. The couch was not built for this but then he slowed down even further, his lips sought hers and he rocked against her, hitting that secret spot deep inside her that sent her reeling to her orgasm. Distantly, she heard herself cry out as she shuddered and bucked underneath him but he didn’t stop the way he was moving, so slowly and deep.

Oliver was breathing hard and fast, she could feel the way his heart was beating through his chest, and still, he kept the same rhythm, pushing her back towards a state of ecstasy she didn’t know existed. She gripped him with all that she had and came again and again, until she wasn’t sure where one orgasm ended and the next began.

Felicity was nearing her breaking point when he rocked his hips against hers in a hard, staccato rhythm. Oliver buried his face in her neck and moaned, low in his throat, she tightened around his cock and ground her hips against him, moving in a sinuous, circular pattern, pushing him towards his own orgasm.

“Oh God, Felicity,” he gasped, “I love you...”

She held him tight while his hips bucked with force and she felt him throb and swell inside her. Taking his face between her hands, she pulled him to her and kissed him, sucking his tongue into her mouth in time to how he was moving inside her until he had to break free, gasping for breath, and groaned loud and long as he came deep and hot inside her.

“That...I mean…,” she stuttered after a few minutes.  
“Felicity Smoak, lost for words?” he snickered quietly as he gently moved to lay down next to her.  
“What was all that for?” she asked while he pulled a blanket over them.  
“Do I need a reason? I love you. I told you something that...that haunts me. Something that I was absolutely certain was going to end us and you instead showed me what forgiveness looks like. You showed me, again, what being loved by you feels like,” he said, smoothing her hair away from her face, “I’ve hurt people, killed more than my conscience can ever hope to heal entirely from, but with you...I feel like I can be close to whole again.”

She was momentarily unable to speak. Flesh is flesh, it heals and it bleeds, she thought, but this...this is love. And it needs to be nurtured and cared for and I am so lucky…

“I think we both can be,” she murmured, curling up against him,”but shouldn’t we be headed for the tub right about now?”  
“Can you walk? Because I don’t think I can,” he said seriously.  
“Maybe in a minute,” she laughed quietly, “Oliver, later...maybe after dinner…”  
“You’ll have to finish that thought for me, love,” he smiled as his eyes slipped closed.  
“I’ll tell you mine.”

His eyes opened and for a moment they remained quietly searching the others eyes. Oliver finally smiled, understanding her without having to ask for clarification, and pulled her closer to him. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. There was a distant roar of thunder and gust of wind rattled the windows, but none of that could stop either of them from finding solace in each other’s arms. Lunch could wait as they slipped off to sleep and let their bodies rest while their minds and hearts found the space to find quiet, dreamless peace.


	13. Night Four: The Telling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Oliver's POV but it dives in deep to one of Felicity's issues.
> 
> I don't want to give too much away because it is sexy, honest and hints at something profoundly life altering, it is best left discovered by you.
> 
> Enjoy <3

**Night Four: The Telling**

  
_He was stripped bare_   
_Naked in her gaze_   
_All she saw was love._

I

 

He woke up automatically after his usual six hours of sleep. Oliver silently sighed. One day he would so dearly love to sleep in alongside Felicity, who he knew had the capacity to sleep hours longer than he could. Growing restless, he slipped out of bed and went to see what the day might have in store for them.

It was still early, so he knew he had time to re-lay the fire and make some breakfast. Checking the supplies in the cupboard and the fridge, Oliver saw she had bought the components for his special version of Eggs Benedict. Taking out the eggs, lemons, rosemary and butter, he began to make his Hollandaise sauce and set a pot on to boil so he could steam the asparagus. The joy he felt in preparing her favourite breakfast had yet to fade since the first time he made it.

The sun was just peeking through the trees, low and brilliantly golden the way only late fall sunrises can be, so he took his time and enjoyed the quiet of the cabin. The birds were waking up, their soft songs floating through the forest, but they remained at a distance. Soon they would be closer, when the sun had warmed them up enough to fly. With a fleeting smile, he thought about the day when quiet mornings would be the norm and not the exception.

With everything almost ready, he wandered back to the bedroom and paused in the doorway. Felicity was still asleep and cocooned deep in the duvet. He could see her hair peeking out and spilling over her pillow but not much else. She shifted under the warmth of the covers and one of her hands slowly reached out and across the bed, in search of him. Oliver felt a pang of regret that he wasn’t in there with her, back under the warm duvet, nestled close enough for her to touch.

Smiling, he called out to her, knowing she was awake but most likely reluctant to get up out of bed. When she eventually answered, he laughed and teased that her favourite breakfast was waiting for her out in the kitchen. Immediately, Felicity sat up and it was like all the sound in the room rushed past his ears in a roar.

She had forgotten that she was naked from the night before when she sat up. The duvet fell away from her, down to her waist, and in the morning light, she was radiant. She almost gave off a bluish glow, like the moon’s light on a clear night, illuminating the shadows of the dim room. He had never seen her more beautiful and it stopped his heart and breath. In a blink of an eye, she was out of bed and slipping into the nearest clothes she could find, ushering sound and life back into the room.

He pulled her into a hug, laughing as she teased him, and then did something he had only done one other time: he slipped his feet under hers and walked them out to the kitchen. It was done to make her smile and he was rewarded with one that blazed with life and love. He could feel the heat of it rush over his skin and imagined, with a breath of hope and longing, that one day he would teach their children to walk and dance on the tops of his feet. He felt the idea take root deep within his heart and grow into a memory.

Breakfast, once served, was eaten over a discussion about what the day should look like. He was hoping she would want to go for a walk. He was an active person and he needed to move, something more than what they had been doing the last couple of days. He needed to be ready to hit the streets as soon as he got back to Star City. He was curious to run the trails around their cabin and if the weather held, he would head out once they were back.

Before she made her way to the bathroom to shower and do what she called her ‘lady business’, she gave him a quick hug. He instinctively sought out her skin, compelled to feel the warmth of her body, but she slipped out of his embrace and headed off to meet the morning under the hot water in the shower. Oliver headed back to the kitchen to quickly pack their lunch.

He knew exactly where they should go but the air outside held a sharp scent, there was a bite to it that signalled an impending storm. Whether it would stay far out over the ocean was the issue but it was worth the risk. The fresh air would do them good, he thought as he packed their lunch into his backpack, and the forest could provide enough shelter if the rain came fast. The giant redwoods would protect them so that they could get back to the cabin without getting drenched.

On a whim, he checked the closet under the stairs that lead up to the as yet unexplored loft and found the perfect beach umbrella. If it got too sunny or rained, it would come in handy, so he laid it out beside the door for them to take on their walk. Felicity was out of the shower and he could hear her in the bedroom, rummaging for clothes to wear and smiled to himself at the way she was so prepared for this weekend, having crafted it specifically for him.

He was watching the sky above the trees and let his mind drift to where it needed to go and he found himself facing the darkest memory he had. Lian Yu had been a horror story from start to finish. It was the place of his making and undoing, it was what he most need to let go of but for that to happen, he had to work through the horror of Russia. The first step in that was to let Felicity into the shadows that lurked within him, to let her see the kind of man he had become in order to survive.

There were many times in the very recent past were he had been so close to opening up, to sharing with her the incident in the forest. But an invisible hand would push back on his chest, keeping him physically and emotionally frozen in place, reducing him to silently screaming it in his mind.

Oliver had gotten so used to silence where his darkest memories were concerned that the freedom to speak now was paralyzing. But she deserved it, she had earned the right to know the truth of who he was even if it meant losing her in the process. He loved her too much to chance losing her by not telling her and that was the ironic part. He felt as though he were damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.

Her soft voice pushed through the wall of silence he had retreated behind and brought him back to the present. She was dressed in layers and a raincoat and ready to go. Out here, away from the city, she let her hair dry into its natural waves, wore lip balm and nothing else. He loved her in heels, in running shoes, in mini dresses, in bulky raincoats and flannel leggings. She was her own person and he knew he would love whatever version of herself she presented because of it.

The tension of the night before was gone and he felt looser, more at ease, and it came out in how he teased her. When she insisted that she ran the bunker, he rolled his eyes in jest but inwardly he acknowledged that she did run the bunker and every op that the team went on. He and Diggle may be out on the front lines, but one mistake on her part could leave them dead or grievously wounded. She was their leader just as much as he was.

As they walked, hand in hand, through the forest, something Diggle had once said to him that Felicity had done the impossible. She had reached into his heart and found a kernel of humanity. She brought it out of him, nursed it, kept it safe and then gave it back to him when he was ready for it. It was his choice to let that kernel grow, to find his humanity again, and with her steadfast support he had reached for it. He had found his humanity and would never let it go again.

It was with this thought taking root in his mind, that he knew today was the day he would tell her about the forest. If he could let that inky darkness out with her, he could rediscover the last few steps back to his humanity. From there, it was the blazing light of the future they were crafting that he was chasing. It was revealing itself to him in greater detail with every step he took.

The forest behind the cabin was deceptive. As soon as they stepped onto the sandy path that lead through it and to the oceanside, the trees surrounded them. It was quiet amongst them. They pulled sound to them, dampening the calls of birds down to a whisper, blocking the crash of the waves, leaving the creaking of their branches as they swayed high above in the wind. They towered high overhead and were so big around, Oliver was certain a van could be driven through a few of them with room to spare.

They spoke quietly underneath the interlocking branches of the cathedral of redwoods. Oliver was awed by the way they were sheltered from the wind and the sheer, ancient size of the trees. He loved this part of the coast. There was a timeless beauty and strength to it that calmed him in the same way Felicity did. He felt it like a breath of fresh air and he drew a small bit of courage from it.

The sharp scent of the ocean signalled they were approaching the beach. The forest started to thin out and the trail they were following got sandier with large tree roots exposing themselves to the relentless wind and ocean. Soon they made their way through tall shrubs and beach grasses and onto the sunlit coast. It was rocky, wild and magnificent. Oliver’s finely tuned eye spotted the way the shore curved and the shadow of the dip as it gave way to what he knew was a cove.

He suggested they walk to it, to find shelter from the wind. This wasn’t a swimming beach now, it was too cold and current was far too powerful for anything other than surfing. He knew Felicity though, and if the weather was warmer, she would have stripped down and dragged him in for a dip. For all her style and attention to makeup and hair, she possessed a passion to live in the moment that was unmatched by anyone else he knew.

Felicity remarked on his eye sight and he admitted that it was all Yao and his ability to teach him how to read the terrain. His time on Lian Yu was so often full of pain and terror that he was reluctant to talk about it but knew moving forward he had to include Felicity in all of it. The longer he hid those memories away, the longer the shadows in his heart grew.

He caught her looking up at him and saw the softness in her eyes. She had worn down his defenses, made him flexible and reflective, simply by being who she was and not allowing him to evade responsibility when he messed up. He loved every inch of her for it. Her courage in facing him and making him face himself filled him with a deep and abiding respect.

Slipping his arm around her waist, he felt the warmth of her body and gentle strength she was slowly building thanks to her dedicated physiotherapist. He flashed on the way their time here had begun and the shock and fear of watching her struggle to feel her legs. It was terrifying for them both but he couldn’t begin to imagine the way it made her feel.

He asked her to never hide it from him when she was in pain or scared or in need of help should the implant misfire. In return, she made him promise to not hide how he felt about how it affected him. She instinctively knew that he would be stoic, concerned and falsely unfazed. It was with relief and genuine commitment that he promised he would tell her.

She teased him gently about them having a breakthrough in their communication and hinted at celebrating the occasion. He felt an immediate rush of heat over his skin. Sex with Felicity was something he was always ready for, even if he was exhausted from a night on patrol. The promise of the way her lips felt, the intensity of how she made him feel, it combined into something so potent, it overwhelmed him.

With a smile, she indicated it was the food in his backpack she was hinting at and not him. Or so she let him think for a minute before laughing at what he knew was his confused and disappointed expression. In response, he bent down and picked her up, fireman style, and jogged the last hundred metres to the cove. He could hear her swearing at him as she laughed but he knew, the moment he set her down, she would rip into him. She hated when he carried her and he knew it was because of how she wrestled with her initial paralysis. When she couldn’t get somewhere on her own, or move her position from one part of the loft to the other, it pushed at her sense of self and the independence she coveted.

Before she could start speaking, he tenderly cupped her face, memorizing the way the sunlight clung to her skin and how her eyes shifted in colour to match the sea and sky. He felt her breath on his skin and gently kissed her. Oliver felt the earth pause in its rotation and ancient journey around the sun. It was like the Earth was remembering how to breathe and their kiss filled the space between each breath.

In an instant, he felt their hearts fill the Universe, tearing through suns, enveloping moons and planets until there was no space left to fill. The kiss was tender and fierce, chaotic and wild. It left him breathless and energized. It was the whirlwind of her, the frenetic energy and soul soothing calm of her that flowed through that one, gentle kiss.

He pulled back an inch, just to get catch his breath, and found himself telling her that he loved her. It flowed out of him so easily that he wished he would take the time say it more. Felicity agreed and teased him on his romantic streak and then slipped free of his embrace to spread out the blanket on the warm sand.

As he sat down behind her, he looked out across the waves as they rushed up the shore. The cove quieted them, calmed them so that they weren’t crashing on the rocks or hitting them with spray. It was the perfect backdrop to the conversations brewing inside them both. There was a tension in her body, not one born of anger or impatience, but of something closer to curiousity. He’d experienced her like this before so he settled back and waited.

The question she asked him took him completely by surprise. It was one he never thought she would circle round to, given her unspoken concerns over the functionality of her implant. Yet, before Curtis had developed it, Oliver had sought out information from Felicity’s doctors on what life was going to look like with her new reality. He asked about body temperature regulation, diet, hygiene, all of it. He wasn’t sure where to begin answering the question so he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek to distract her while he thought it through.

He told her, when he was ready, about how he considered giving up being the Green Arrow, about how he contemplated selling the loft and finding a new home for them both, but not how he researched ways to be intimate with her without hurting her and still allowing her to feel pleasure and joy. Oliver knew her independence was so vital to who she was as a person that not finding ways to ensure that she would always remain so wasn’t an option.

And, without realizing it, he began to talk about the future, their future and the strength and courage he saw in her everyday. That in such a short period of time she was shot, paralysed, found out about William, her father returned and then, most devastatingly, Havenrock. He had watched her remain steadfast and unflinching in the face of continual devastation and knew he failed her over and over.

She tried to reassure him that by stumbling and figuring things out, he was doing the best he could. His persistence was working but he knew he had so much more to make up for, that in the end he was so wrapped up in his lies, that he forgot she was always standing there, next to him. He had betrayed her unwavering support and trust over and over in ways so selfish, he wasn’t sure he would ever be free of the guilt and shame.

Felicity didn’t say a word, she kissed the back of his scarred knuckles, turned just enough so she could lay her head on his chest and waited for him to continue. He admitted that he had been sure that he had lost her by the time he had taken her out to the cabin just outside Star City, the one they weathered the hurricane out in a few short months ago.

To her credit, she didn’t lie or spare his feelings. She had almost let him go but his quiet patience and obstinate refusal to give up trying with her had convinced her otherwise. He teased her gently about his potent charm and she sighed in mock exasperation. He poked her in her ticklish sides and held her as she laughed, helplessly and joyously, in his arms. She soon grew quiet and settled back against him, watching the waves in their ceaseless journey to shore.

With a deep breath, he admitted that he had asked her doctor about how they could have sex while she was paralysed. He could feel himself blushing up to his roots of his hair and prayed Felicity wouldn’t look up but she did and immediately began laughing at his very obvious embarrassment. He responded by rubbing the scruff of his beard into her neck. She hated when he did that, almost as much as when he would carry her, and she squirmed out of his embrace just enough to be able to reach up and pull him down into a kiss.

It would have been so easy to give into it. To let the passion and desire they both felt so keenly in that moment take over completely. He felt her grip on his sweater tighten and pulled away to catch his breath. When she opened her eyes, they pulled him into her with the gravitational pull of a dying star. He was locked on to her and it felt like the pieces of his heart, long since shattered, were slowly being fitted back together with every shared breath.

It gave him courage to dive into the murky, gray world of his most damaging memories. He could feel the shape of each word as they formed in his mind. She told him that nothing could alter how she felt about him even though he wasn’t so sure her resolve would hold. Felicity then did something that filled him with a sense of admiration, love and so much respect he felt his heart might burst. She turned around so that her back was pressed to his chest, pulled his arms around her and waited.

She held her body so still and strong, creating a space of quiet space where he suddenly found the courage to give voice to the darkest, most inhuman memories he had drifting in his mind and dreams. He alluded to having help and chuckled when she muttered about Coyote. When he mentioned someone else entirely, she sat up and turned to face him.

It was like she was reading the story of his dreams and the Endless ones that came to help him through the toughest moments he had to face. She knew who he was talking about because she had shared the company of two of the oldest beings in the Universe as well. It never failed to amaze him how connected they were to each other in every realm and how they just took it in stride that they would always find the other no matter the location.

He pulled her back against him, silently welcoming her unwavering strength and support, and slowly found his voice. The Bratva was not a source of pride for him. He had set aside his humanity and let the monster that lived in his soul out. And it had flourished. It had eclipsed the last bit of light left in him, plunging him into a cold and unrelenting darkness.

Admitting to her that he had sunk to levels of violence and viciousness more intense and sustained then when he had stalked the streets of Star City throwing Darhk’s men off of rooftops, beating them until they opted for death then his fist and boots, almost paralysed him. He had locked away the man he had become and allowed the monster he used to be re-emerge in the blood soaked alleys and warehouses near the docks. Telling her even a sliver of that past life was like ripping the skin from his body. He felt exposed and raw as each word formed and a sudden burst of panic shot through him.

He concentrated on his breathing. The panic that had formed like a fist in his gut was slowly loosening the longer he focused on deep, lung expanding breaths. He felt a chill, like a cloud had passed over the sun, but they were surrounded by sunshine. It reflected off the water, glittering and shining like jewels. He was surprised at the calming effect it had on him the longer he watched the way the waves brought the sunlight to shore.

What grounded him, bringing him back to himself, was the feel of her lips as she pressed a kiss to the tender skin on the inside of his wrists. It was a small gesture, one so intimate and kind, it instantly relaxed him. He rested his head against hers and waited for the calm to settle around them both before he started speaking.

Carefully, Felicity asked him why Dream had come to him, what memory he had help in facing. He felt her draw her energy inward, as though to protect herself from his memories. Instinctively, she knew he was going to dive into the deep, dark waters of his time in Russia. Her voice revealed her uncertainty and he was loathe to drag her under with him, but the words were already forming and he had to speak them or they would rot in his mind and heart.

He felt detached from the moment. He could hear his voice, a soft tenor under the deep rumble of the ocean, but it was like he was listening to a recording of himself. He sounded far away to his own ears and he knew he was slowly dissociating as he opened the door to the nightmare Dream had helped him to face.

The words, once he found them, flowed out of him in a slow, measured flood. He told her about how the burns on his back had come to be, about the vicious, inhumane response he embarked on once he was healed up enough to follow through on it. He had compartmentalized his thoughts and erected a barrier between his heart and mind. In a quiet, far away voice devoid of colour or tone, he told her about the cabin in the taiga forest. How he and his men had dismantled it and then how he had dismantled the man who tortured him.

Felicity shivered in his arms but he knew not from cold. She was horrified and repulsed but she didn’t pull away from him. So he soldiered on. Revealing layer after layer of the pain he deliberately inflicted on a man whose face and name remained a blur to him. His identity never mattered. He was never a person to Oliver, even as he howled in agony form the tree deep in the cold, Siberian forest.

He explained, in a flat voice, how the code of the Bratva had been broken and had to be made right. The brutal men that made up the ranks of the brotherhood would settle for nothing less but he had made even the hardest of amongst them pause and a few of them ill. He felt cold and clammy as he recounted that night, still able to call up the way the earth smelled as the man’s blood soaked into it.

There was a tension in her body that leaked into the space around them, he could see it like a heat signature causing waves and ripples in the air. But she kept her body still and pressed closely to his, waiting for him to continue or end. Carefully, he began to speak about Havenrock and how he wasn’t able to really understand the impact of that on her, because of the sheer size of loss it represented, but he needed to make room for it so he could understand.

The only way to do that was to let go of the guilt, shame and grief of that night in the forest. If he could do that for her, he would, and he trusted her with this dark secret because of all the love, patience and kindness she had shown him. He hoarded to himself the true depth of love he felt for her, for the moment, because of the fear he was gripped by as he waited for her to say something.

Felicity remained silent. He could feel her breath against the roughened skin of his hands and the errant tear that splashed down across his knuckles. She was used to him existing in a space that required him to dive deep into the waters of violence. He was always able to resurface, damaged but alive, a journey that became easier to navigate the longer he knew her. When he realized, once and for all, that she held no judgement when she challenged him, that she was daring him to think outside of his tightly constructed box without the risk of failing, he knew all his secrets would eventually be hers as soon as he found the courage to share them.

But the longer her silence went on, the easier it was to second guess himself. Maybe this story, this one memory so drenched in blood and horror, was too much for her. He let his arms fall away from her, to give her the space to decide if she wanted to stay or go. Still, she remained silent and still, far too still for her, and it broke his heart to think he had disappointed her.

When he made a move to get up, she grabbed his hands and brought him back to her. He felt frozen in his relief, only able to reconnect to his breathing, he found himself so disconnected from his body that he couldn’t raise his arms. Felicity read him like a book and gently stroked the backs of his hands to encourage him to find himself and her in the midst of so much re-lived trauma.

Oliver wanted to tell her that she had brought beauty back into his life. That by simply sharing her world with him, she had almost single handedly wiped away a decade of pain. But his voice had deserted him and he remained silent and still but beyond grateful for the mere existence of her. Yet still she tried to reach him with her words. When he remained lost within himself, she turned around to face him, her legs around his waist forcing him to move his arms. It was instinctive for him to embrace her.

Felicity was refusing to let him drift away by making him meet her eyes, red rimmed from crying but heartbreakingly clear. It was a small tactic she would use in moments where they were free falling away from one another. He almost couldn’t look up but then she did what she always did so well, she cut through all of his fear, hesitancy and self loathing with a simple sentence. She refused to absolve him of the guilt he felt, but she was able to put into words how Russia allowed him to step away from his humanity and do things no one should ever be able to do. How she mourned the existence of that man in him but regardless of that, she was going exactly nowhere.

For what felt like an eternity, he sat and watched the promise of their future unfold in her eyes. The crash of the waves faded away and so did the screams that haunted him. He could feel the need to flee leave his body, his muscles twitched and relaxed as she spoke, pulling from him the last bit of fear of not only losing her but the pieces of himself that he had managed to find and put back together.

Hearing her tell him that she loved him, inclusive of all the bad he carried with him, broke through to his heart and without thinking, he smiled at her. A smile full of just a small fraction of the joy she continually brought to his life. He had crawled out of the horror created by five years in limbo, broken and scarred in ways visible on his skin and invisible on his psyche, never once expecting to live this long, never once expecting to find himself in love with a woman like Felicity. Once she entered his life, all others dimmed. He didn’t notice at first but when he did, she shone like a supernova in an empty sky.

She knew he would never be free completely from the actions of his past because they were woven into how he moved through his life. Hearing the softness in her voice as she told him she would never judge him for finding a way to live and that maybe together they could find a way to heal the wounds of the past, filled him with a profound sense of gratitude. He hoped that he could repay her by helping her release the pain of Havenrock once and for all.

Once more, she reaffirmed he would not lose her to the man he once was, and pulled him into a tender kiss. Oliver felt a seismic shift underneath him the second her tongue swept across his bottom lip. His mind didn’t go blank, it expanded and grew. He felt her body vibrating and then she slipped into sync with the rhythm they were creating with every beat of their hearts. Over time, he had collected the pieces of himself he had stashed away all those years ago deep in his mind and was trying to fit them back into their rightful places. He still had gaps and spaces where the pieces were lost forever, but it allowed her love to flow through him.

Their kiss deepened, clearing away the lingering hurt of words not spoken, actions not taken and created space for them to live and dream together. They would never forget their past mistakes, but they could step free from the ties that bound them to them. What he felt, down to his bones, was that he didn’t want to spend his life alone and that he wanted to spend it with her.

When she asked him if he could, would he change the past and not get on the Gambit that fateful night, he thought he had heard her wrong. From their first meeting, he knew there was something within her that sang to him. Through the chaos that was his life, where his only true companion was a soul crushing loneliness that followed him back from Lian Yu, she had been luminous, blazing like a newborn star in the centre of the life he thought he no longer deserved.

With a smile, she had changed it all. If he had to go through it all again, it would be worth it because at the end of that part of his journey, was her. In an uncertain landscape filled with violence and loss, she had been able to reach into the abyss he was lost to and pull him home. He was sure she could hear the love wrapped around each word when he told her as much.

They eased into a tight embrace, resting against each other completely still on the shore, listening to the waves. It was in the peace of the moment, where they took the time to simply breathe, that he thought about all the things his relationship with Felicity wasn’t.

It wasn’t temporary. It wasn’t something that had a beginning or an ending. It wasn’t something he had any way of knowing exactly what to do based on past experience, as he had never been a good man in any relationship in the past, but his heart seemed to be remembering tomorrow. He felt he knew what this was now. It was everything.

He happened to glance at the sky and saw the dark clouds boiling up and across the horizon, advancing at an alarming rate. Slowly, the real world crept back in. The waves were getting higher, the wind was blowing a little harder and the seagulls had fallen silent. If they didn’t start moving soon, the storm that was hovering just beyond the cliffs would overtake them, and lunch would be ruined.

When he teased her about carrying her back to the cabin, she threatened him in a way that caused him to pause and reflect very quickly on the capacity for mayhem she had. With a few simple keystrokes, she could destroy his world without causing any physical harm or damage to property. He didn’t feel fear, just an intense admiration and respect for the power of her intellect and the quickness of her mind. Felicity was powerful in ways no one on the team could ever be and it made her, to his mind, the fiercest of them all.

Laughing, Oliver got up and took her outstretched hand. He thought for a moment of picking her up anyways, of slinging her over her shoulder regardless of her threat to his remaining trust fund. Sometimes he did it just to hear what names she would call him but he understood the memories it brought back and only did it when she was in pain. He placed her sense of comfort well above his own and it opened his eyes to just how deep her importance to his life ran.

Her love challenged him to think about himself differently. It forced him to see the edges of his life as part of a larger tapestry that connected to hers. They shared stories about life and death, about trauma and intricate puzzles of truth and reality that they had constructed simply to survive. Through all the trauma and pain, he understood that on a fundamental level, he was a different man than the one who had left Lian Yu five years ago.

He was slowly but surely reclaiming his humanity, one piece at a time. Some parts of him were lost, he knew deep down that the truth of his past had darkened parts of his soul forever. Yet now, as he looked at the woman beside him, he could feel new parts of himself unfolding and unfurling, searching for the way out into the light.

Stepping out of the protective enclave of the cove brought the force of the storm upon them. The wind picked up loose sand and small bits of debris and blasted them with it, tearing at their skin and clothes. Felicity was able to keep up to him as he quickened his pace to seek the shelter of the forest. Once on the pathway through the towering trees, the wind fell away and calm settled around them.

The walk was quick as rain was beginning to fall and thunder was rolling softly over the waves. Oliver had grown to love the tempestuous storms of the Pacific Northwest. They were mercurial, like Felicity when she was challenged. She would flow around him in a rage, blasting him with the full force of all she was, from her intellect to her emotions. It left him breathless, a little afraid at times, but always full of deep admiration for her innate fearlessness. No one challenged him the way she did and not a day went by since that first disagreement in the lair that he wasn’t grateful for her courage and strength.

As they approached the cabin, Oliver watched Felicity as she carefully made her way past ferns and berry bushes, trying to not break the delicate branches or knock the ripening fruit to the ground. She was as aware of her surroundings in the day as he was at night in the streets. It was as they left the confines of the forest that it hit him. He had shared his darkest, most terrifying secret with her and she had wrapped him in her arms and simply loved him.

She wasn’t taking away his pain, forgiving him or adding her sorrow to his own. She knew his conscious carried the weight of innumerable dead and yet here she was, continuing to breathe life into his grey, colourless world. She had listened to him and made him see that he would never lose her, even now. It didn’t stop him from feeling he had let her down but at least now, maybe if he could gently encourage her, she would tell him what was pushing her almost out of reach.

As she climbed the low stairs leading up to the bedroom, he called to her as she took her rain jacket off. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say but he felt he owed her something for listening to him tell his story without judgement. So he thanked her with as much love and humility as he could muster. He wrapped those feelings around each word the same way he wanted to wrap his arms around her.

He reached for her hand as she said she would always listen to him, feeling the charge of electricity that her touch of her skin always generated in his body, and felt a soft sense of peace envelope them. Even as the sky opened up and the rain poured down, he was aware of only her and the space she was creating for them both to find each other again. With lunch ready to eat in the bag he carried on his back, her suggestion of eating it was easily agreed to.

A chill had entered the air, so he agreed to build the fire while she made coffee and got plates and cutlery ready. While he waited for the kindling to light up enough for him to add more wood, he slipped back into the memories he had unloaded that morning on the beach. So much could have gone wrong. He had felt the way Felicity physically recoiled and pulled away from him. It had devastated him to know he was capable of such violence and that it could push her away from him out of fear and revulsion.

He could still feel the foggy cold air of the forest, so heavy with moisture that it clung to his skin, and hear the soul shattering cries of a man destined to die suspended from a tree. There was no way to escape the barbarism he brought into his soul that night, there was no forgiveness for the acts he committed under the silver glow of the moon. But with Felicity, there was no judgement, just a deep understanding that he could find redemption through continued good works.

Softly, she called him back to the moment and made sure he was ok. He smiled at her concern and reassured her by pulling her to her feet and wrapping her in a tight embrace. Oliver let go of the tension he had been carrying since the morning out on the cove. It was an act of contrition, to feel it all as it fled his body. Felicity’s grip on him increased and he could feel the tranquil strength she was sharing with him, surrounding them both with as he let go of the insecurity and doubt he had pulled to the surface as he shared his story.

Oliver found himself wanting to see her eyes. He wanted to count the shades of blue, gold and green that created the luminous azure irises that so often gazed into him. Her eyes were a reflection of the goodness that lived within her, despite all the hardships and hurt that her life had dealt her. He couldn’t really explain it to her yet, but he never felt lost when he dove into that endless blue. He felt anchored and alive. She kept him safe no matter how far he sank and she always encouraged him to find his way back on his own.

Thinking back to Nanda Parbat, and their first tender yet sorrowful night together, and how removing her glasses was like stripping her bare, revealing all of her hidden layers. It was an intimate moment that felt erotic and honest, seductive but innocent, and repeating that moment now didn’t lessen the intensity of that memory. He felt it all again, brand new and exhilarating, rushing through them both as he cradled her face between his large, scarred hands, and gently stroked the soft skin of her cheeks with his thumbs.

Inch by inch, reality fell away from the space around them. Oliver was so focused on her eyes and the feel of her skin under his hands, that he missed how intensely she was gripping his shirt, her body pressed tightly against his. There were some days when they couldn't get close enough, even during sex, there was this overwhelming need to merge body and soul. When he slowly lowered his head so that he could kiss her, he felt that need shift to something more spiritual, like this moment was creating their world brand new.

She sought his body out, pushing her hands up underneath his sweater and pressing her palms flat against the uneven skin of his lower back. It was instinct to pull her close, to deepen the kiss and search out the warmth of her body. With a gentle tug, he pulled her sweater up and over her head. He felt himself blink when he saw that she was braless under it all and felt a swell of deep desire to touch and taste every inch of her skin.

With a gentle tease, she encouraged him to remove his shirt. Before it was off, he felt her lips, soft as silk, kiss the length of the scar left behind by the hardened steel of Ra’s Al Ghul’s blade. It was more than just a kindness, it was the feeling of a shared mercy between them, a shared space of peace and that only they could access. She was honouring the sacrifices he had made for his family, for the team and most importantly, for her.

Lunch would have to wait as he pulled her back into a kiss, one he felt with every cell in his body. She trembled slightly under his touch as he gently traced the delicate lines of her neck, shoulders and arms. So often the criminals they faced misjudged the true strength she possessed simply because they saw her as small and slight. He could feel the tension in her body, the shifting plates of armour that guarded her heart battling with the desire and love she felt in these most intimate of moments.

Gently, he moved her back to the couch. He had every intention of commanding each moment, each touch, each small sigh shared between them. Whispering softly in her ear, he told her about the way his heart would skip a beat when she would walk into a room, unaware of his eyes on her. How it brought him only joy to see her smile, that when the smile was only for him, he could live in that moment forever.

Her skin felt hot and alive under his hands and she glowed in the firelight, it seemed to swirl around her. Everything she came into contact with reflected back that energy and life, it filled their world with all the light it could hold. He kissed her again, sucking gently on her bottom lip, feeling the eagerness and desire that rested below the surface of her skin.

Looking down at her, he marveled at how beautiful she was. Naked and surging with energy, he could see the parts of her that she couldn’t see of herself. He saw the good, the bad, and the parts so corroded from pain and lack of light that even she didn’t know they existed still within her, and he loved her with a growing intensity that pushed at the limits of his heart.

He felt her fingertips run lightly over the uneven skin of his lower back, the reminder of an act of violence that altered the course of his identity. A shiver ran down his spine and a low, rumbling groan thundered through his body and across hers. She may have thunder in her veins but she could summon a response, an answering storm, in him that shifted reality.

Keeping his body resting gently on hers, he slowly eased his hand down the length of her torso, feeling the way her skin warmed in response, her hips trying to push up against his. He sought out the hot wet heat of her and paused to enjoy the way she flowed over his fingers, silky soft. With practiced ease, he slipped two fingers deep inside her, one after the other, and gently pulsed them forward.

His lips sought her neck, graceful and long, so that he could feel the change in her breathing as he circled her clit with his thumb. She was trying so hard to move against his hand but he was refusing to give up his position of control, pinning her hips with his own into the soft cushions of the couch. He wanted to keep her hovering just out of reach of her ultimate goal. It drove her wild underneath him, yet because of the softness of the cushions beneath her, she was not able to move enough to do much other than gasp for air.

When the grip she had on him loosened, he knew it was time show her some mercy. Oliver slowly sat up and slipped his pants off. He watched Felicity watch him, her eyes half closed and dilated, and smiled as she groaned her frustration about the pace he was setting. She made no attempt to move though and he was able to really look at her and how her body glowed in the firelight. She was otherworldly, almost alien in how beautiful she was in the softly moving light.

He leaned down and kissed the soft skin in the centre of her chest and shifted down her body until he reached the tender skin below her navel. His cock was hard against his thigh as he settled back between her legs, using his shoulders to spread them apart. Felicity hissed in pleasure as he covered her with his mouth and slowly traced an endless swirling circle around her clit. She gripped his hair as he pushed two fingers inside her and pulsed them forward, hitting nerve endings that cause her entire body to shake.

Oliver knew he was pushing her to her limits as he slowly thrust his fingers inside her. He took great pleasure in leisurely licking the length of her before rasping his tongue rasped against her clit. She was panting and trying to speak but every time she caught her breath, he would suck in an undulating series of tensions and pressure. The combination of sensations was making her tremble and vibrate against his mouth to a rhythm he knew so well. She was so close, her body was singing to his, tuned into a frequency that only they could hear.

He felt time shift and reality tumble away, leaving just the two of them. The only thing that mattered to him now was her and the joy she was feeling. Oliver had fallen in love with her endless spirit but the ecstasy she felt and gave into renewed his belief in her love for him. Nothing could stop her orgasm now, so he rumbled a growl against her and felt the way she gripped his hair, willing him to finish what he started.

She was so lost to the rhythmic release happening in her body that she failed to feel him move carefully back up her body, pausing only to rest his hips against hers, his cock nestled up against her. Oliver kissed her slowly, gently running the tip of his tongue across her lips, coaxing them apart. Felicity was limp underneath him but she responded with fervor, pushing her tongue past his lips and welcoming his at the same time.

Oliver began to move his hips just enough to feel her body begin to tremble and elicit a low, primal moan from her. His cock was almost impossibly hard but still he kept the movement of his hips slow and deliberate. When he reached between them and stroked her clit in time with his hips, she opened her eyes and stared unseeing into his. He watched her pupils dilate and smiled as a rosy blush rose up from her chest to her cheeks. Oliver took that as his cue.

With a simple movement, he thrust inside her. Distantly, he heard her telling him she loved him but he was lost, captured, by the way her body pulled his erect cock deep inside her, how there was a moment of exquisite tension, a gentle squeeze, and then ecstasy. Sex had never felt this erotically intense for him before. With Felicity it was about something so much more than just pleasure or lust, it was sometimes the only way they had to truly, honestly connect ti each other.

Her body was searing hot and it only took one rolling thrust for him to lose himself, to let the walls that held his heart and mind in check completely fall away. Oliver made himself slow down, rolling his hips hard so that each deliciously slow thrust ended with their pelvises meeting. He felt a familiar spreading warmth flow out and through his body as she wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him, desperate to meet him with thrusts of her own.

In these moments, where their bodies were connected, he loved to watch her as they found the stillness between each movement. It was like watching a world being born or the edges of the universe expand. Each breath was timed, part of the natural rhythm they established each time they made love. He realized that the deeper he fell in love with her, the more he never wanted these moments to end.

Felicity shuddered, her back arched, and he felt the powerful squeeze of her body around his throbbing cock as her orgasm took her. Her hips moved hard, slamming into his, pulling him deeper still into her body. Then she stilled them both and moved in a sinuous, serpentine motion, grinding down hard against him. He felt the pressure of how her body was tightening around him and knew he couldn’t hold back much longer.

When she took his face in between her small hands and kissed him, sucking on his tongue to the same rhythm as how he was thrusting inside her, it was like a bolt of electricity passed between them. Gasping for breath, he sought the skin of her neck, licking and kissing her, tasting her as his mind fell quiet and expanded. His cock throbbed, the pressure in his pelvis released and he came in a series of jerking, pounding thrusts.

It took him a minute to pull himself back together, to find all the pieces of his heart and soul that had blown outward as his orgasm finally ebbed and he was able to come back to the present moment. He was aware of whispering over and over that he loved her and was rewarded with a smile so full of reciprocated love, he almost felt unworthy but accepted it with grace.

When she tried to speak, she stumbled and fell over words that so normally came to her. He laughed at her fumbling but understood why. Sometimes, when their souls had truly connected, it was almost impossible to form a coherent thought but not because of feeling shattered. It was because of feeling as close to whole as maybe they had ever felt.

When she asked why he had made love to her in that way, he tried to sidestep it, avoid the necessity of truth but decided to face it head on. He told her about his fear of having driven her away by telling her about the night in the forest. About the guilt and shame he felt for having been responsible for so many deaths that his conscience felt leadened, weighted down maybe forever.

She was silent. Her eyes wide and warm. Between their breaths he found what he was searching for, the knowledge that skin can bleed, that it can heal, that he had died so many times, death was a distant memory but this...what he both felt and held now in his arms, was love. She had shown him what love was supposed to feel like, what it was like to be loved because of who he was despite the violence of his past.

Pulling the soft woolen blanket over them, he marveled at how confident she was that they could be whole as individuals even with the lingering trauma of Havenrock, William and her continued struggle with the implant in her back. He teased her about being able to make it to the tub but she laughed softly and murmured that they might have to wait until after dinner.

His eyes slipped close as she said something that caught him off guard. That later, she would tell him her story. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. She was gazing up, meeting his curious stare with a brutal honesty that left him awed. He pulled her closer and watched as she fell asleep, content to be in his arms. Her skin felt like silk and he could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as her breathing deepened the further she succumbed to sleep.

Honour, love and respect seemed to surround them as the day drifted by. Oliver closed his eyes and sought the peace between the seconds, joining his breathing to hers, and allowed sleep to claim him. He wondered, in his last conscious thought, if he would get a visit from Dream or Death in that twilight space where the veil between their realms thinned.

 

II

_Oliver awoke to the sound of birds singing high above him. It was confusing in a way that surprised him. He had expected to step through into his dream and find chaos, pain and an atmosphere that was closer to a nightmare than the soft, diffuse light that surrounded him. It took a moment to find himself in the birdsong filled space but he recognized the brick walls and small patio space of the inner courtyard in the building above the lair._

_On occasion, if the weather was right, birds would fly down and root through the garden in search of worms and fallen seeds. Bumble bees had discovered the lilac bush and would fly clumsily in the small space, bouncing from bush to wall to open sky while he and Felicity would watch from the couch.The day the first hummingbird zipped from one flower to another had been one of celebration and joy. Felicity had watched with rapt attention, marveling at the flash of the ruby red and emerald green of its satiny feathers._

_This space was one of profound peace and he hoped, for both of them, that it could remain that way. It was the one shared space that they both claimed in some small part. Felicity had found it and broke her mind and body in order to access it. He had transformed it into something alive for her, so it could be a space of healing. That process had healed part of him and so he had come to see this interior garden as secret and sacred. No one from the team was allowed in. Not even for an emergency or crisis in the city and he aimed to maintain that divide forever._

_Sitting back on the soft sofa, Oliver stretched out his legs and stared up at the small window of endless blue sky above him. The courtyard was maybe fifteen feet across by twenty five feet long but it felt spacious, like a meadow or large English garden like his family home had once boasted, and it was here he often would retreat for a nap or meal before heading out onto the dark streets of Star City._

_He reflected on the story he had told Felicity out on the beach. She had surprised him. He felt her body shiver in revulsion but she didn’t shy away from him. There was no offer of forgiveness but she had made the effort to understand, to listen and to proffer up her own inner meditation on it. The judgement he had expect, the loss of respect, and the loss of her from his life that he felt would come, had evaporated with every word she spoke. He smiled up at the sky and felt a surge of love push out of his body. He felt energized and alive thinking of the memory alone._

_It was then he heard what sounded like a chorus of voices singing in harmony. It wasn’t loud or discordant but it had an edge to it, like it was going to surge into something hard and brutal. He got up and began to cross over to the hidden french doors, when the air around him rippled. It felt like the equivalent of a pebble being dropped into a still pond. Without turning around he knew who would be behind him._

_“I see that you have told her your darkest story,” Dream said softly from his place on the couch._   
_“I did,” Oliver replied with a small smile._   
_“It went well,” the ancient man stated, “So what comes next?”_   
_“She said she would tell me her story later tonight,” Oliver answered somewhat distractedly, “I’m sorry, but do you hear that?”_

_Dream looked at him with an inscrutable expression. For a moment Oliver thought he had crossed an unknown line and had entered dangerous territory. With both him and his sister, Death, Oliver was cautious with his questions. These beings held immense power and Oliver had learned through experience to always be deferential to stronger beings like this._

_“You can hear it as well?” Dream finally asked._   
_“I can...I thought I was losing my mind for a second there to be honest.”_   
_“What does it sound like?” Dream inquired._

_Oliver sat down next to the Endless one and thought about the way the song he was hearing, almost a step or two too far beyond his ability to hear it, was undulating between major and minor keys. It was simultaneously a wail and lullaby. It was pleasure and pain, it was sacred and profane. His skin crawled as it reached a fevered pitch but then calmed as the song faded almost completely._

_“It sounds like chaos,” he murmured, still listening to the last dying strains of a song he wasn’t sure he should be hearing._   
_“How so?” Dream asked softly, the winds of the universe ruffling the lang, velvet cloak he wore like an identity._   
_“It sounds like something so primal, so...ancient...it sounds like the origin of life,” Oliver answered wistfully._   
_“Interesting,” was all Dream said._

_Oliver hazarded a glance at the being sitting next to him. He sounded thoughtful, reflective and that made Oliver nervous. It was like a cold finger of fear had wormed its way under his skin and was freezing out his rational mind one thought at a time. Something was coming and he was filled with a soul crushing dread that it was about Felicity._

_There was always a price to pay for the road he was traveling with the siblings. Nothing was ever free and there was no guarantee he would like what he was stepping into. Dream gave him peace and opened the door to the hell that was in his mind. He was resigned to whatever Dream would ask of him because the gift he would receive would undoubtedly be worth it._

_“Interesting?” Oliver asked with a slight grin._   
_“Very few mortals can hear that song. Not surprisingly, both you and Felicity are able to hear it. My sister doesn’t like to speak about the being who is able to create it but in time, you will know who it is.”_   
_“This is something I will have to deal with in my waking life, isn’t it?”_   
_“Yes. You wear two very distinct identities when you are awake. The one who is required to deal with the creature that now is attempting to find purchase, a stronghold, in your city will require the man formed from steel.”_   
_“I’ll never be free, will I?” Oliver asked with a sadness he tried to keep buried deep within his heart._   
_“Oliver,” Morpheus said with a kindness in his voice Oliver had not heard before, “tell me about your favourite place. The one place you think of when all is calm in both your worlds.”_

_He sat for a moment and considered what Morpheus was asking of him. When his worlds were calm, when his soul felt that simple breeze of peace, he let his heart drift back to the beach house in Klamath. It was isolated and yet when they had been there, it felt like the world was just outside their door. He had not felt the same kind of comfort and belonging since and he missed it._

_The courtyard rippled and molecule by molecule, the space they were sitting in changed. No longer were they sitting on the couch in the quiet, warm garden. They were sitting on the steps of the deck that overlooked the wild, Oregon coast. The waves and birds were silent, their symphony of sound held in check by Morpheus. The sun was warm though and Oliver closed his eyes to simply breath in the fresh ocean air._

_“So this is Klamath,” Morpheus said approvingly._   
_“It is. It is as close to perfect, to paradise, as we’ve ever found.”_   
_“And you have both traveled the world in ways most unusual,” the ancient one mused._   
_“Why did you want to see this place?” Oliver asked quietly._   
_“I wanted to see where your mind would take us. I wanted to see what for you represented happiness. Tell me why it became paradise.”_

_He wasn’t sure if he had the words to describe why Klamath had worked its way into the small part of his mind reserved for only the happiest of memories. So much had happened in that short week. There had been tears and a few moments of deep, soul crushing uncertainty but in the end, they had reached for each other and held on._

_“Felicity and I discovered what it meant to really be in love out here. I think for the first time I realized that I could actually be in love and love her and not be terrified of failing,” he began softly, “She told me more about who she is in one day then she told me the entire time we were away traveling the world. It was like here it was safe to let each other in and simply...be.”_

_“What is preventing you from coming back here?”_   
_“It’s too far away from home but it is some place I hope we can come back to,” Oliver sighed._   
_“That isn’t an answer, that is an excuse,” Morpheus chided._   
_“It’s a good one, though,” Oliver chuckled._   
_“You know what is keeping you away from this place in both its literal and figurative forms,” Morpheus said, his attention momentarily distracted by something large moving in the deep waters of the ocean._   
_“Felicity.”_   
_“Yes, but more importantly what she is holding inside her.”_

_Oliver was confused by the statement and just as he turned to ask for more information, he heard the sound of hundreds of birds wings beating out of time. It was a familiar sound now, one that he knew accompanied the arrival of Death. He had thought she was gone away for good, or at least until the day came when he was ready to draw his last breath._

_“Now this place is lovely,” she said in a voice full of awe._   
_“Sister?” Morpheus asked with uncertainty._   
_“I know, I know, I said I wasn’t going to be coming back but I caught a glimpse of this place through your eyes after you mentioned Felicity. She hasn’t done it yet, has she?”_

_Oliver wasn’t sure who she was asking the question of and based on the quizzical look Morpheus was giving him, neither was he. This was an unusual moment and Oliver faked a cough to cover his laugh. Somehow Death had caught them both off guard. Much to his surprise, Dream did the exact same thing, making the moment all the more funny._

_Death eyed them both for a moment, her black eyes narrowed in amusement. “Ok, you two. Knock it off.”_   
_“Sorry,” Oliver coughed, “but the look on your brother’s face…”_   
_“Do not attempt to blame that on me, Oliver,” Morpheus said from behind his hand, his eyes glittering with the light of the universe._

_With a long suffering sigh, Death plunked down between them and looked out across the ocean. Klamath had the same effect on her that it did on her brother. It calmed her down, it created a look of peace that covered her face and he saw that underneath the one she wore for humanity existed thousands more._

_“So what is it that Felicity hasn’t done?” Oliver asked._   
_“She hasn’t let go of what she needs to let go of,” Death answered cryptically._   
_“The souls inside her.”_   
_“Yes. They are starting to burn her memories away. She is losing her connection to herself,” Death said sadly._   
_“She said she would tell me something today.”_   
_“She has to,” she said earnestly, “Hold her to it, Oliver. She has the strength to save herself but she needs your support to do it. Not your permission. Okay?”_   
_“Okay,” he agreed._   
_“Good. Now...this place...you need to bring her back here,” Death said encouragingly._   
_“One day,” he smiled._

_Oliver thought back to the time they spent here and all the movement they had made in their relationship. They hadn’t walked back together, they had rushed back, letting their hearts and minds reconnect. They hadn’t yet made the promise, the commitment, to stay together and build a life together but it was coming. He could feel it in the energy that flowed between them._

_“Oliver,” Morpheus began, “once she tells you what it is that she needs to tell you, you will both finally be free.”_   
_“Yes,” Death nodded, “but it will be terrifying for her.”_   
_“How will I be free?” Oliver asked, confused at the idea of it._

_Death and Dream exchanged looks over top Oliver’s head._

_“But, Oliver...this place...it is home,” Death said softly, her voice tinged with sadness._   
_“When you are ready, you can return here,” Morpheus said encouragingly, “it is a special place. One worth the time to travel to.”_   
_“It’s hard to get away when I am tied to my other self.”_

_At the mention of his other identity, the air swirled around them, kicking up sand and debris. When it settled, they were back in the courtyard above the lair. The sky was darker, closer to twilight then middle of the afternoon and he knew his time with the siblings was almost up but he still wasn’t sure what it was that would be required of him. If the price of what was to come was something he could pay._

_“So what is it that you really need from me? Nothing you offer is free,” Oliver pushed._   
_“Even if she rails against you, gets angry enough to leave a mark, you have to hold her to her word and somehow show her that she can be free,” Death implored._   
_“But until I know what that is, how can I show her anything?”_   
_“Oliver…,” Morpheus said slowly, exchanging a meaningful glance at his sister, “you are already fee. You just need to let your mind catch up.”_

  _It was like a roar of sound surrounded him, blocking out all other sound, leaving him isolated for a few precious seconds. How could he already be free when he was still divided by the two sides of his identity? He was trying desperately to meld the two together but lacked the skill to make it work. It was a point of silent frustration for him, one he knew Felicity was aware of but was giving him the space to work his way through on his own, and he felt no closer to truly understanding how to unite himself then he when they first met._

_“Oliver,” Death said softly, “the only thing stopping you is you. You are already free. You know the way home. Felicity is lost in her need to atone. You can help her find her way out.”_   
_“I think she is ready,” Oliver said softly, looking first at Death and then to Dream, “I can feel it.”_

_Exchanging another look over his head, the siblings nodded in unison. Oliver noted how alike they were despite how different their realms were. They had the easy connection only a relationship built on love and trust could reveal. He felt comforted by their presence._

_“Why did you bring me back to the courtyard?” he suddenly asked._   
_“I didn’t,” Morpheus answered, “You did. When you think of your life with Felicity and you feel fear or despair, you come here looking for peace and safety. This, too, is home.”_   
_“But when I am calm and confident, I send myself to Klamath,” Oliver stated simply, understanding finally how he envisioned what being free looked like for both himself and Felicity._

_“You get it,” Death nodded as she stood up, “You have to help Felicity get it to. Let her see this place or Klamath or the cabin you are in right now, which is so gorgeous I am considering visiting it when you leave, as where she can be safe enough to let go and let me do what I am here to do.”_

_“It has to be soon, Oliver,” Dream said as he stood up to join his sister, “Her dreams are eroding around the edges as her memories fade. I am helpless to stop it.”_

_Oliver looked sharply at the two as readied themselves to go. “If she finally tells me what she needs to say, I won’t see you again, will I?”_   
_“You will see me again but I hope not for a very long time,” Death smiled as she pushed her unruly black hair out of the way._   
_“I will be in the shadows as I always am. Your nightmares will fade now but your dreams can still be unpleasant,” Morpheus said in his drole way._   
_“My brother, everyone,” said Death to an imaginary audience, “The Funniest Endless of Them All!”_   
_“Sister…,” Morpheus began in his weary voice._   
_“Nope! Save it. Until you take me up on that offer to connect you with Johnny Carson…”_   
_“We are here for Oliver…,” he gently reminded._

_To his credit, Oliver managed to remain stoic and straightfaced which had the unfortunate side effect of causing Death to burst out laughing. Never would he have thought that the embodiment of actual death could have such a rich but irreverent sense of humour. Morpheus may shake his head in exasperation but the affection was clear on his face. Oliver sensed that the two made each other feel connected and real and less of an abstract concept._

_“We should be going,” Death finally said, “but I wanted to say thank you to you. What you are about to hear will not be easy.”_   
_“I know,” Oliver agreed._   
_“It may haunt you for a time,” Morpheus warned, “but do not let it take root. The song you heard will never end if you do.”_   
_“Got it,” Oliver said with a slight smile. He blinked and they were gone. The courtyard returned to quiet and suddenly he was flying up, pulled back through the veil by an unseen hand._

 

III

 

Oliver opened his eyes thinking he was going to see Felicity still asleep beside him but instead discovered he was alone on the couch. He felt strangely abandoned as he listened to the cabin, trying to locate her within it. The fire, once roaring but now reduced to glowing embers, was still giving off enough heat to keep the large room warm. The cabin was well built and the fireplace well designed to provide heat for hours even after the fire had died down. Yet he felt a shiver work its way across his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The cabin was quiet. He couldn’t figure out where she was until he heard the soft sound of running water. Sitting up, he peered over the top of the plush couch and tried to see if she was in the formal bathroom or the one with the copper tub. From the gentle glow of light filtering down the hallway, he could tell she was in the separate room with the tub. Smiling, he reached for his sweats and got up.

“Felicity?” he called softly, “Where are you?”

The door to the tub room popped open and he saw the flicker of candle light. She said nothing in return, so he quickly made his way to her in equal parts curiosity and concern. Felicity wasn’t one for silence. Her thoughts, moving faster than light on her slowest of days, were audible to him. He could always hear her so when she pulled her energy in, it worried him.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly as he slipped into the small space.  
“I woke up and you were out like a light,” she smiled up at him from the deep, copper tub. Steam was rising from the water, fogging the window in front of it and the sky light above. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her skin looked dewy and smooth in the light.  
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he leaned down to give her a quick, tender kiss.  
“Flatterer,” she chuckled against his lips.  
“The tub big enough for two or have I been cast out?”  
“Well, I don’t suppose you aren’t going to get undressed and just get in…,” she said with a terrible wink and a laugh.

Oliver shook his head and laughed at her continued insistence that she could wink. She really couldn’t and it was so endearing that she continued to try that he couldn’t dissuade her. Slipping out of his sweats, he stepped into the tub and carefully settled in behind her. The water rose but didn’t spill over the lip at the top. The water was hot and lightly scented.

“Is that the bath oil you picked up in Pompeii?” he murmured as he smelled her neck. She smelled of rose, fennel and myrrh. She found a perfumery down an ancient, cobblestoned alley during their visit there that, named after an ancient one that had been smothered in the hot ash that covered the city in 79 AD. Vettii was its name and they made a line based on a formula found inscribed on a wall uncovered decades before.

It was at the same time both masculine and feminine and soothed whatever was troubling her. She was calm and relaxed as she leaned back against his chest and allowed her body to simply float on the water. They sat in silence and watched the sky darken into the diffuse blue of late afternoon. The sun had come out and was filtering through the trees, filling every conceivable space with soft light. In the distance, layered over top of the waves, was the sound of song birds.

“This is the first time I have heard birds since we got here,” Felicity said drowsily.  
“I wonder if that means we’ll actually have some clear weather tonight,” he said softly as he watched the gentle wind shake the rain off of the leaves of the oak trees just beyond the window.  
“Oliver?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“Wash my back?”  
“Your wish is my command.”

Chuckling, Oliver reached for the bottle of body wash and loofah. She was always prepared and tonight was a trip down memory lane in Positano. She was surrounding them in memories of their time away, the time before Damien Darhk and the violent trauma that followed him into their lives. It concerned him considering all what he felt was to come. Things would not be easy but if this is what it took for her to get comfortable, then he was more than happy to help.

Her back was a roadmap of survival and pain. One that he could locate landmarks on, spaces of hurt and healing, and it never failed to humble him that the one scar left by a surgeon from Argus was the one that mattered most. He gently traced every line, washed clean ever round scar, and silently thanked her strength and courage, that it was enough to keep her alive and heal her.

“I love you, Felicity,” he said softly.  
“This is new information, Oliver, I’m going to need time to process it,” she teased.  
“One of these days, Felicity…,” he mock sighed and then rubbed his stubble against her neck.  
“Stop!” she laughed.  
“You smell amazing,” he mused.  
“I love this bath oil. It makes you smell good, too.”  
“I always smell good,” he said confidently.  
“Oh Oliver…,” she sighed, “You need to spend some alone time with your leathers after you’ve been on the street for hours in summer time.”  
“I smell like fortitude and success!”  
“I am getting out of this bath,” she grumbled as she made a move to get up.  
“Look, if you can’t handle how awesome I am right now,” he said casually as he encircled her with his arms, holding her against him, “imagine all the issues you are going to have in the future.”  
“Oliver,” she said patiently, “I am going to enjoy watching you sleep in the car tonight.”

Both of them were quiet for maybe ten seconds before they started to laugh. It felt good to tease and joke after the intensity of the last day. They settled back and watched the sky continue to darken. The moon had risen early and was a pale yellow sliver peeking up over the trees, promising a dark, star filled sky for them later that night.

“We should check out the loft area above the living room later,” she said softly, her head resting back on his shoulder.  
“I think there are skylights up above it. Maybe after dinner, we can head up and watch the stars?” he asked, watching the way the water beaded on her skin.  
“That sounds lovely. I wonder what’s up there? A couple of chairs? A couch?”  
“Just so long as it isn’t a computer station…,” he mumbled under his breath.  
“What? Afraid that it would entertain me more than you?” she asked with so much fake innocence, he groaned in mock agony in lieu of a response.  
“Come on,” she laughed, “I’m starving and my fingers are starting to pucker.”

Somehow, they managed to stand up without water spilling out of the tub. Oliver wrapped her in a towel before doing the same and stepped out of the still steaming water. The copper kept the heat in and he made a note that if they should move in together again, they needed one just like it. Preferably in front of a fireplace.

“So what’s next up on the Oliver Queen menu?”  
“I’ll have to check the fridge,” he said absentmindedly.  
“Stop staring at the tub, Oliver, it’s...unseemly.”  
“Jealous?”

Felicity rolled her eyes and left the small room in search of her clothes. Oliver chuckled and followed her, picking up his sweatpants on the way. The air in the cabin had cooled significantly and after getting dressed, Oliver made his way out to the woodpile behind the house. They had one more night left out here and it would be back to the mayor’s office and the streets. He hoped they could spend it in front of the fire, either in the living room or in the bedroom.

“Hey, Oliver?” she called from the kitchen, “When are you going to teach me how to cook?”  
“I...I don’t know…,” he stuttered, trying to think of how to answer her without hurting her feelings. He wasn’t sure if she could be taught how to cook.  
“Oliver. I am certain you could teach me.”  
“Felicity…,” he paused to look at her and made up his mind, “Ok, when we get back I will teach you one small thing per week. Good?”  
“Good,” she smiled.  
“But for now, let me stoke up the fire and get us something good. Deal?” he asked.  
“Deal,” she agreed, raising up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek, “you do the fire and food and I’ll pack up some of our stuff.”

Oliver looked at their food stores and came up with a meal that would be quick and easy. He loved the idea of eating in front of the fire, so he built the meal around plentiful small portions of bite sized quiches, good bread, meat, cheese and wine. The burritos he had made for their lunch could wait until tomorrow’s breakfast so he put them away and got busy setting the large coffee table with plates and cutlery. There was a small dark chocolate cheesecake with strawberries dipped in wine infused chocolate waiting for them as well. Felicity had done well with her shopping order.

The mini quiches were in the oven, the table was set and he could hear Felicity humming to herself in the back bedroom and smiled at the simple domesticity of it all. They were simply doing what they needed to do in the course of an ordinary day. It was the foundation they were building on, the ground they needed to form, so that they could finally commit to the future that was waiting for them.

It was so close, he thought as he stoked the fire and laid more wood on top, it was like they were remembering it as a way to make it real.

“Hey you,” she called softly from behind him, “what kind of music should we listen to?”  
“Surprise me,” he said warmly, smiling as he turned around.  
“Let’s see what’s on the AM dial…,” she murmured under her breath as she turned on the stereo.

Gradually, after some painful static and screeching, she found a station that played the kind of jazz music his grandparents or great grandparents might have listened to in speakeasies. Ella Fitzgerald was just ending and Billie Holiday was just beginning. Billie’s voice quietly filled the room, soft and mournful. It fit the way the light was shifting as the day gave way to night. Soon the golden rosy glow of the sunset would cool and the stars would come out one at a time, twinkling and shining against the velvet black of the space.

“So what’s for dinner?” she asked, sliding into his embrace.  
“This and that,” he smiled, watching the way the firelight caught the small flecks of gold in her eyes, making them shimmer against the dark blue they were surrounded by.  
“I’m so hungry, Oliver,” she groaned, leaning into his chest with her forehead.

Oliver laughed, kissed the top of her head and ushered her to the couch. “Wait here while I get everything ready? Okay?”  
“Okay...but hurry. I am feeling like I might die.”  
“So dramatic…,” he muttered knowing she would hear.

The string of curse words that followed him were clear indication that she had and was in no mood to do anything other than eat. He took the meat and cheese plates out of the fridge and quiches out of the oven. Dinner was ready and in front of her quicker than she expected but was delighted to see.

“So,” she said around a mouth full of brioche and smoked ham, “what time should we leave tomorrow? Sunday traffic should light midmorning and don’t you have a major meeting to prep for on Monday morning?”  
“Oh God, I forgot about that one,” he groaned, “the one with the City Comptroller.”  
“I can help you with that one, don’t worry,” she soothed, reaching for another mini quiche. She really liked the ones with goat cheese and spinach.  
“Thank you,” he sighed in relief, “I can face rooms full of ninjas but that man and his file folders…”  
“Oliver Jonas Queen, the Green Arrow, the man who has defied death and stood up to an evil that could have destroyed the world, taken down dozens and dozens of ninjas, is afraid of an accountant,” she said in a voice strained around the edges from holding back laughter.

Oliver shot her a dark look which only caused her to utter a small squeaky sound as she struggled to contain her laughter. Finally she cracked and laughed so hard tears started to flow down her cheeks. She wasn’t laughing at his fear out of any kind of cruelty, but at the idea of him as the Green Arrow being afraid of a small man in a grey suit. The city comptroller wasn’t a large man but he wouldn’t tolerate any mistakes, not even from the Mayor.

Oliver sat back and waited for her to tire herself out and just shook his head. Felicity crawled onto his lap and gave him a tight hug. She was still chuckling softly so he nuzzled her neck with his now too long stubble and held her tight against him so that she couldn’t escape. It was his favourite trick to use when she was, in her own words, being a brat.

“Done?” he asked in his quiet, growly voice.  
“For now,” she answered with a sardonic smile.  
“Oh Felicity,” he said in mock disappointment, “you wound me.”  
“Don’t worry,” she whispered in his ear, “later, I can kiss you and make it better.”

Oliver’s breath caught in his throat. He blinked and was transported back to that moment in the alley that lead to the entrance of their old bunker in Star City. He had been so nervous, his palms sweating and his heart racing, when he asked her to out on that ill fated first date. He had faltered and almost chickened out. Looking into her eyes had made him weak in the knees to the point he almost dropped to the ground in front of her.

But underneath all of that shaky fear was a deep desire, a wanting need of her, to feel her skin against his, the smell of her, the taste of her. When he looked at her, half in shadow, half in the light of the sun, he saw a woman he wanted to spend an eternity learning. And she said yes to his awkward invitation and here they were, wrapped in a tight embrace in a cabin miles away from their empty homes where she could make him feel that awkward desire all over again.

“Felicity,” he hummed in her ear, “would that be before or after the dark chocolate cheesecake?”  
“Oh my God, Oliver, AFTER!” she exclaimed, hopping up faster than he actually thought she could move, “Is it in the fridge?”  
“Yes,” he laughed, “Now sit down. I’ll get it.”  
“I feel so pampered,” she mused.  
“You deserve it,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her gently.

Dessert was a hit, as he suspected it would be and within a few minutes they were in the kitchen cleaning up. Oliver ran the garbage and recycling out while Felicity wiped all the countertops down and swept the floor. They didn’t have to clean up but it they felt it would have been disrespectful to leave this beautiful space in any kind of disarray.

“Hey, Oliver,” she called out as he made sure to lock the shed the garbage and recycling bins were in. There were bears and wolves in the forest and the smell of food would draw them out.  
“Yeah?” he called back.  
“Let’s check out the loft!”  
“You got it!”

Oliver re-entered the cabin and found that the lights had been turned low and the radio switched off. Felicity had put another large log on the fire and was nowhere to be seen. He glanced up and saw a soft glow of a candle coming from the loft space above him. Shaking his head in admiration, he made his up the narrow, curved stairway and went in search of her.

What he saw made him wish they had found this space on the first night. He very much doubted they would have left it for very long. There were two large skylights above a very large, very pillowy looking bed that Felicity was laying back on underneath a faux fur blanket. She was staring up through one of the windows with a rapt expression on her face.

Before joining her, Oliver blew out the candle and then slipped under the blanket with her to look up at the night sky. It was so dark that the small portion of sky they could see was so full of stars and light that it was almost impossible to focus on any one star at a time. He loved this kind of view, it was humbling but also so profoundly life affirming.

“This is quite a view,” she mused.  
“I wish we had come up here before this,” he said softly, “this sky…”  
“It reminds me of the sky in the desert,” she said, her voice wistful and soft.  
“It does,” he said softly, slipping his arm around her, welcoming her to nestle into his side.

They stayed that way, in that calm that happens after a good meal and a long day, just watching the sky move past them. Oliver let his mind drift back to the conversations with Dream and Death and the way they implored him to make sure Felicity did what she needed to do to let of all the souls she thought she was keeping safe within her heart.

“You seem a bit pensive,” she said in concern, “is everything ok?”  
“Just thinking,” he said, snapping himself out of his revere.  
“What about?”  
“The past weekend, the week to come, how I desperately need to go for a run…”  
“Oliver, you are a machine.”  
“A…”  
“Do NOT…,” she said in warning.  
“...sex machine?”  
“Oh God, you DID,” she groaned in agony at his attempt at a joke.

Oliver laughed and weighed his options. He decided to dive in and tell her what he was really thinking about. It would serve no purpose to lie or hide the truth from her. He only hoped she wouldn’t get angry and shut down like the night before.

“Actually,” he began slowly, “I was thinking about a dream I had while we napped earlier.”  
“Oh,” she looked up at him then, her eyes a rich, deep blue, like velvet, in the dark space between the earth and sky, “what did you see?”  
“I saw the courtyard in Star City and the beach house in Klamath,” he felt a sudden pang of longing just then and hoped he kept the colour of it out of his voice.  
“I love both those places,” she sighed, “I remember every minute we spent at Klamath and I look forward to every minute in the garden.”

Oliver looked at her and smiled, “I do, too.”  
“What did THEY tell you?”  
“How...how did you know?” he asked her, not surprised that she knew but the question was genuine.  
“Oliver, sometimes you talk in your sleep.”  
“Oh man,” he groaned as she laughed.  
“Well?” she asked, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs.  
“They didn’t tell me anything really new,” he said carefully, “I just have to be patient as I wait.”  
“For what?”  
“For you to tell me what you need to,” was all he said.

He could tell she knew what that was. Her body tightened just enough for him to feel it. He kept his arm around her loose, not wanting her to feel trapped, but it was tight enough to be warm and supportive. Oliver hoped she would relax into his embrace and share her heart with him, once and for all, to finally let love be the bridge between them and nothing else.

She sighed and fell silent. So he waited. This was a moment for her to decide, to choose, not only what she wanted to do but what she needed from him. He knew that she could let go and let her story be free once and for all, releasing her from the enormous debt of guilt she was carrying. Or, she could do what he prayed she would not do: remain silent and wither and die as the light inside her, the spirit that drew him to her in the first place, was snuffed out forever.

“I...I don’t know if I can,” she said softly.  
“That’s ok. I’ll be here when you are ready,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into the top of her head.  
“Death really is persistent, isn’t she?” she chuckled with little humour.  
“She...cares. It is...an unusual friendship,” he agreed.  
“She made me feel safe, of all things,” she admitted.  
“Dream made me uncomfortable but overall safe-ish,” Oliver conceded.  
“That is high praise from Oliver Queen,” she teased gently.  
“Careful you,” he warned with a chuckle.

Felicity fell silent and absentmindedly played with the hem of his shirt. It was a nervous tick, something she did as her thoughts raced and she tried to come to a conclusion about something important. He could almost hear her thoughts but knew by the way her body began to relax that she was ready to make a choice.

“Oliver did I ever tell you about the dream I had not long after we moved into the house in Ivy Town? The one where I am in a field?” she asked softly.  
“No, I don’t think you did,” he answered, now curious as to what she was leading to.  
“Well, I was in this field, surrounded by so many different kinds of wildflowers, it was like a carpet of colour. Every shade of the rainbow. Just vibrant and alive. It was like there was nothing to harm me out there, no right or wrong, but there was you. At the end of it all, we found each other there.”  
“Felicity,” he said almost inaudibly, “That is...that is beautiful.”  
“I have had it a few other times, with different kinds of fields. Once it was a meadow in the mountains. Regardless of where I dream of landing, we always find each other.”  
“But? I am sensing there is a ‘but’ coming.”  
“I haven’t had it since Havenrock. I’ve tried to find that place of peace but it evades me,” she said mournfully.  
“You know what you need to do in order to find it again, Felicity,” he reminded her, “You know you can do it.”

Felicity sat up, her head illuminated by the sky above, her eyes glimmered for an instant and he found himself wanting to reach for her, to pull her close and whisper words of love against her skin. But he waited to see what she was going to do as she watched him.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity continued speaking, “I know what Death needs me to do but Oliver...I am scared.”

All Oliver did was reach out his hand for her to hold. He could feel the tremors of fear that were running through her and her hand was cold. He wanted to open his arms to her, to create a space where she could feel safe and secure but he sensed that she needed to be vulnerable. Not alone, just in a place where she was open to whatever it was that may come.

“When the bomb fell on Havenrock, I felt the deaths. I felt the impact, but you know my nightmares,” she paused and watched him nod, “but I took in every single soul of every resident. It’s like I reached out and caught them all and brought them into my heart.”

She looked down at his hands, clenched tightly between her own. He stroked the backs of hers with his thumb, almost too terrified to move lest she decide that she needed to stop, but wanting to calm her surging anxiety. Her vulnerability wasn’t a liability to her, it was a where she found her courage and strength. Oliver admired her the most when she would face what caused her to feel this way and emerge stronger than ever.

When she looked up, her eyes were luminous, lit from within in a way he had never seen before. They weren’t just blue, they were alive, glowing and shining, reminding him of the way the stars in the desert reflected off of the still water of the creek they camped beside almost two years ago. But the light wasn’t just in her eyes, her skin shone, too. He could almost see her scars, those long since healed wounds, on her skin were. Light was leaking out of the cracks in the armor she had unconsciously sheathed her heart in.

Then quietly, in a voice no louder than a whisper, she began to speak. At first Oliver wasn’t sure what she was saying. It wasn’t making any sense but her grip on his hands increased, like she was afraid of flying away from him, flying out of his gravity to tumble through space. To reassure her, while he sorted out what she was saying, he sat up and held both of her hands in his, allowing her to draw from his strength, his belief in her.

It took a minute more for him to realize, with a dawning sense of horror and profound grief, that she was reciting names and ages. Groups of them with the same last name, entire families, individuals, strangers, lovers, all of them the dead of Havenrock. She had memorized forty thousand names and ages to match the souls that resided in her heart.

Her voice was soft, cracking only slightly when she spoke into existence the innocent identity of children. Tears formed and fell but not once did she stop to wipe them from her cheeks. Oliver stilled himself and listened both out of respect for her and for the dead she was naming. This was her goodbye to them, this was her finally letting go of the souls she thought she was protecting.

The air was supercharged around them and everytime she said a name, a slight breeze would blow past him. Periodically, a burst of sparks, like static electricity, would ripple in the air around her. They shone blue and white, spraying out like fireworks, swirling in the slight breeze as another name slipped past her lips.

“Nancy Thompson, 34. Aaron Thompson, 36. Rene Thompson, 4. Catherine Thompson, 8 months. Alice Broughton, 89. Edmund Broughton, 97. Ian Broughton, 46. Sylvia Broughton, 41. Michelle Broughton, 19. Nicholas Broughton, 17. Tina Broughton, 15,” she paused to take a tiny sip of air, as though unwilling to breathe too deeply lest she breathe the finally released soul back in.

And still she forged on, name after name spoken with love and honour, until her throat went dry. When her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper, after nearly two hours of recitation, he held up one finger and gave her a look that asked if she could wait one minute. Felicity nodded and he got up and ran across the short plankway that connected the loft to the stairs. He was down in a flash and in the kitchen where he grabbed four cold bottles of water and a box of tissues. He took the stairs three at a time and was with her in less than a minute.

She smiled, grateful for the water, and carefully blew her nose. Her hands trembled as she lifted the water bottle to her lips but she visibly relaxed. She wasn’t done, however, and while he didn’t know how long it would take, he was there for the duration. Taking the bottle from her, he took her hands in his and nodded. Whenever she was ready, he was there to be her witness.

In a voice so soft, he almost couldn’t hear it, she began her list again. She settled into a gentle rhythm so that the litany of names became a sacrament, intoned like a hymn, her offering back to the one who should have ushered them to their final end. Oliver felt sure Death was nearby but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. Felicity was finally letting the souls go and he could see the way her body was lifting as the weight of them escaped her body.

Every name spoken was a breath taken slightly deeper. She was a painting, a work of art, taking shape right before his very eyes. Yet still, she continued, pausing every few minutes to take a sip of water or dry her eyes. Her hold on him continued to be strong, verging on desperate, and he found his hold on her increasing, like she was now the anchor that kept them both from tumbling through space. They were surrounded by grief and the voices of the dead but they had each other to hold onto and that was all that mattered.

After what felt like hours, her tears no longer falling, her heart thoroughly opened, her voice raw and cracking, Felicity said the very last name. A deep, impenetrable silence filled the cabin. It felt like they had entered a sacred or holy space that existed only between them, it absorbed all sound, but he could hear them both breathing. It was meditative and calm. Rhythmic and synchronized. After a moment, Oliver reached for her and pulled her to him so that they could lie back and allow their bodies to relax.

“I did it,” she croaked in a voice worn thin after hours of use, “I remembered them all.”  
“You did,” he soothed, “You remembered and honoured every last one of them. But more importantly, you let them go.”  
“Thank you for listening,” she whispered, looking up at him, “and for being patient as I found the courage to speak.”  
“Felicity...I will always listen to you. I want to. I know and love your voice, your REAL voice, the one you used this evening, and I love you,” he said whispered earnestly, “and that you trusted me with this is an honour.”

Felicity pushed herself up and leaned down to give him a tender kiss. Her lips were salty from her tears but warm and soft. Fleetingly, he thought about the grief that had poured out of her, leaving traces of it across her lips for him to find. She eased back down beside him, pulling the warm faux fur blanket up across them and rested her head on his chest. Her hands were still, with one resting on his chest, the other curled up under her chin. She was radiating calmness in a way he hadn’t seen since Ivy Town.

The fire below had warmed the air in the loft, making them both drowsy, and he thought about what he had just said to her. In his heart, he had wanted to say that her voice was the one he would always recognize. Just like he would know it was her when she entered a room, even if he didn’t see her enter it. He knew her by the sounds she made, the way she smelled, the way she walked. He could identify the specific lift of her heel in a crowd of people or a silent room, by the way she sometimes stepped with her toes first if her heels were too tight.

He knew the way she would purse her lips in a specific way right before she spoke or how they parted just before he would lean in close to kiss her. He knew the joy, the tender mercy, of how she would whisper ‘more’. She was more than just the hint of the future he felt certain they were headed for, the one person who made his heart skip a beat simply by existing, she was and always would be the promise of tomorrow.

Before meeting Felicity, Oliver firmly believed that tomorrow was not a guarantee but that he had to make plans to navigate it anyways, regardless of the pain of the present. With her he had learned that loss was only made endurable through love which, according to the many visitors who had come to speak with them in their dreams, would be the last dying note the universe would sing before dying.

Oliver knew, as he held her beneath a canopy of ancient light feeling her slip quietly to sleep in his arms, that there was no more searching. No more worry or heartbreak that they couldn’t handle together. Their journey wasn’t over but they had reached point where they knew that if they ever needed to go on separate paths for whatever reason, at the end of those temporary divides they would always find each other.

Gently, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and let sleep over take him. He had no idea what time it was but somehow knew they would both sleep until morning. It seemed only right that they would spend their final night sleeping under the watchful eye of the universe. Oliver felt a surge of emotion go through him as he thought about all the pieces that had to fall into place for them to cross paths. All those beautiful, wild, powerful and uncontrolled moments had pushed into their lives and helped them find each other. His dreams that night would be quiet and full of light, leaving him feeling a sense of love and contentment he would forever use as a touchstone in the days to come.


	14. Day Five: Living (Plus Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is it. The end of a VERY long ride that began with The Unimaginable, continued in Klamath: An Unimaginable Interlude and ending here with Spiral's last chapter.
> 
> I am sad to see it end but it is time. This is where Felicity comes back to herself in the gentlest of ways. Oliver, as always, is proving to be a better man than the show will let us see him be.
> 
> Enjoy and thank you for reading my epic tale lol

**Day Five: Living**

_Standing behind the veil of memory_   
_He beckons her_   
_Offering hope._

I

_Felicity opened her eyes and found herself sitting in a forest of ghosts. They swayed to and fro in the delicate breeze that flowed over the land. They were opaque and delicate, like cobwebs coated in dust, and they clung to one another to keep from disintegrating. She wanted to reach out to them but some unseen force stayed her hand._

_Carefully standing up, she searched for a way through them. Their arms were reaching for her, gossamer light, trembling along their edges, like feathers on a bird about to take flight. Felicity couldn’t look at their faces, she was terrified of what she might see when she did._

_“There is no horizon,” came a soft, masculine voice from somewhere over head._   
_“I can’t see anything,” Felicity replied in a soft voice, looking up at Dream, “all I see are ghosts.”_

_Dream reached down for her hand and pulled her up above the inhabitants of her mind. It was so effortless to simply fly when she was with the Morpheus. All she had to do was reach up or look towards wherever he was and she could join him. This time it was high above the surface of her mind and she watched the way the spirits rippled in the breeze. The horizon was indistinct, the beings underneath them simply faded into nothingness._

_“There are so many…,” she murmured._   
_“Felicity, you know how many there are and you know why they are here.” Dream said firmly._   
_“Why are they disappearing on the horizons, though?” she asked in order to sidestep what the Endless one was telling her. She would face it soon enough but not now._   
_“They aren’t fading, they are absorbing everything that you love.”_   
_“What do you mean?” she asked, confused by what he was saying._   
_“Take me somewhere peaceful, close your eyes and see it,” Dream requested._

_Felicity closed her eyes and thought about the beach house in Klamath. She had never felt so connected to Oliver, so at peace. Not even Ivy Town could compare to the happiness she felt out in that place of solitude and joy. Opening her eyes, she expected to see the soft white sand and deep blue water but instead she saw the ghosts of Havenrock pressing closer together, their mouths open as though they were wailing._

_“I don’t understand…,” she said, confused and panicked._   
_“You are losing those memories,” Dream explained, his voice tinged sadness, “All of those moments are fading and will disappear forever unless you do what is necessary.”_

_She retreated away from Dream, seeking out the quietest corner of her mind that she could find to think through what was being asked of her and if she had the strength to do it. The souls of the dead roamed beneath her, searching for peace and entrance to the world beyond the one they had been so viciously taken from._

_“Oliver told you his darkest truth, did he not?” Dream asked._   
_“He did. It...it was awful. I knew his time in Russia was bad but not like that,” she shuddered, hugging herself, “Oliver was so lost for so long.”_   
_“It took a huge amount of courage for him to tell you.”_   
_“I know, I truly do,” she murmured, distracted by the forms underneath her._   
_“I have spent a significant amount of time with him. I have seen his heart and know that he wants his to put his story next to yours,” Dream said quietly, “I have never really believed in the concept of soul mates. I saw it once, centuries ago and not since.”_   
_“I’m sensing a but…,” Felicity encouraged._   
_“There are nights where he sinks down into deepest sleep, a place of violent turmoil, filled with death and pain and a loneliness so primal it gouges his soul. Yet, when he wakes up, he reaches for you and all that pain vanishes,” Dream explained, “With you, he has found the strength to let go of all that haunts him and simply...be happy. He is still a work in progress but so are you.”_

_Felicity had to smile at that comment. It was very true of the both of them. But she remained silent and waited. The longer she spent with the Endless, the more intune she became to the way they communicated. She was positive he wasn’t done speaking._

_“The longer you spend together, the more I have come to believe that you are truly soul mates, but the necessary steps you need to make are yet to come,” he continued._   
_“I owe him...honesty but I don’t think he needs to carry the weight of all of them,” she said softly, gesturing to the spirits below._   
_“He won’t though, he will help you be free from them.”_

_Before Felicity could reply, she caught a glimmer on the very edge of her dream. It was an indistinct blur moving slowly back and forth in front of a doorway that shimmered with light. She couldn’t figure out who it was at first and then it all became obvious as the spirits closest to the light moved away from it. Death was waiting for them. She was patient and relentless._

_“Your sister is waiting for them and for me,” Felicity smiled sadly._   
_“She is,” Dream said with a small nod, “she wants you to be free, Felicity.”_   
_“I...I’m close, “ she stammered, desperate to somehow escape the persistent questions being asked of her._

_It was then, in the quiet lull between the next volley of demands and imploring words, that she heard a slightly discordant humming coming from somewhere beneath her. It floated over the shapes below, like it had physical form and was simply a collection of notes. It was mournful and devastating. It sounded like despair and the utter desolation that accompanies the complete loss of hope._

_“Do you hear that?” Felicity asked carefully. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer. For some reason she coveted the song and wanted to make it her own._   
_“I do,” said Dream. The tone in his voice conveyed a measure of concern and underpinnings of dread. Felicity had never heard that in his voice before and looked up at him sharply._

_“Who or what is it?” she asked._   
_“It is my sister, Despair,” he answered simply._   
_“She sings such a haunted tune,” Felicity murmured._   
_“She is singing the song of your heart.”_

_With this admission, Felicity felt the shape of her dream shift. She felt off balance, out of sync with herself and the created space around her. The sound of the song intensified, the harmonies grew sharper, the melody became lost in a tangle of odd beats and percussive bass voices._

_“Oliver has heard it in his dreams as well. Your sorrow is so deep, it has reached out to him,” Dream explained softly, in as gentle a tone as he could manage._   
_“He doesn’t know it is mine, does he?” she asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly around the edges._   
_“Not yet, but the time will come when he has no choice but to know. Your heart is singing as loud as it can, searching for help.”_

_Silently, they watched the souls of Havenrock gather in a densely packed, seething swirl of ghostly shapes. Their voices were indistinct, a roiling mass of sound that held no meaning. They were drowning out her thoughts, crowding out her memories and leaving her with what Dream would describe as dark rooms, locked and empty._

_“Sometimes it rains,” she murmured._   
_“Pardon?” Dream asked, bewildered by her comment._   
_“Nothing...I was just musing aloud,” she smiled weakly. The dead were aware of her and her heart was aching to join them._

_“If you join them,” Dream cautioned, “you can never return. You will have to lead them to the end of their journey but you will then discover my sister, waiting for you.”_   
_“So their release from the purgatory I am keeping them in means...I die, too?” she asked, fear slowly worming its way into her heart._   
_“If you let them go, if you let my sister take them across the last leg of their journey, you will be free. If you take them, you will join them.”_

_Felicity felt the the pull of grief in her heart but knew it was a trick of conscience. It was her desire to make it right, to make the hurt of loss so vast and unending it eclipsed all reason better, to heal the devastation Darhk had unleashed. The devastation she felt ultimately responsible for simply due to her inability to stop one nuke out of thousands._

_Oliver continually told her that she had saved the world and part of her believed him. She knew he was right but still the persistent call of the souls that surrounded her and felt her resistance wearing down. It was who she was, a foundational piece of her identity, to try to make things right when she had even a small part in what went wrong._

_“How do I let them go?” she asked softly._   
_“I don’t know,” Dream admitted, “My sister knows but she has instructed me to not summon her to reveal it. This is your journey, Felicity. You must decide who you are and what your life will look like.”_   
_“Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy,” she murmured, rubbing her arms absentmindedly, as though to ward off a chill._   
_“True and this will not be easy.”_   
_“You really need to work on your dreamside manner,” Felicity chuckled without humour, “but I suppose this makes sense.”_   
_“Your nightmares are crowded and isolating. You have removed the light from your memories and left a void in its place. That is not sustainable, Felicity.”_   
_“I know. I feel it every day. I...I am afraid to talk to Oliver about it.”_   
_“He knows,” Dream said softly._   
_“I just have to jump into it, don’t I?”_

_Dream said nothing. Instead, he reached out for her hand and together they retreated out of the bleak, grey landscape and into the garden she and Oliver had created together. It was their sanctuary. In a blink of an eye, they were on the wild Oregon coast at the beach house in Klamath. Felicity felt a surge of longing for that isolated house. It matched their personalities - a perfect blend of the chaos and peace they both carried._

_“I love this space,” Felicity sighed in contentment._   
_“I can see why. It is a garden you both dream of and it is were you are both honest and true to who you are when you are here,” Dream mused._   
_“It was created out of such pain and love,” Felicity murmured, a tear slipping slowly down her cheek. She was remembering the moment she saw the garden and the nervous anticipation that surrounded Oliver as he showed her the french doors that lead to it._

_After nights of violence or days of hard work, they would seclude themselves within it, shutting out the rest of the team and the world. It was their space and their space only. No one else, not even Thea, was allowed to set foot within it. It was perfect. It was like the beach house at Klamath. It was a place where they could simply breathe._

_“You should do what you are thinking about when it comes to that beach house,” Dream said as he settled onto the small outdoor couch, “You are both people that do well when you are alone together. Not all people can say that.”_   
_“You speak a lot of sense...for an immortal entity,” Felicity stammered._

_Dream looked at her and allowed a small smile to cross his normally stoic face. Felicity felt like the magic of the garden was finally reaching the Endless being next to her. For a few minutes, they sat in amiable silence and listened to the soft hum of insects and the way the breeze rustled the prairie grass Oliver had planted in spring. It was hypnotic and calming._

_“Wait…,” Felicity said in quiet alarm, “the voices...they are gone.”_   
_“Not gone. They haven’t found you yet.”_   
_“They...they deserve to be free,” she whispered._   
_“They do. You just need to be brave.”_

_She thought about bravery, about hope and what it meant to truly be alive. For months she had toiled in the pain of knowing that she was unable to save a city. She had saved the world but at a huge cost to her soul. She was knowingly sacrificing all that was good within her for a violent act of another. Her life with Oliver had let her see death close up on more than one occasion but this...this was something different. It was carnage, slaughter, something close to genocide and someone had to atone for it._

_Oliver had tried to convince her that it was Darhk and only Darhk who was responsible. That the work she did to divert almost 15000 nukes had literally saved the world from what would have been a nuclear holocaust. He was trying to tell her to be proud but what she needed to hear was that she was forgiven. She had failed Havenrock even as she saved the world._

_“Being brave is sometimes being vulnerable enough to allow someone to help you in your darkest moments,” Death was distracted as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the windows opposite the couches._   
_“So allowing Oliver to help me, beyond all that he has already done, is what I need?”_   
_“Perhaps. Or maybe it is someone else. Either way, this is your last chance, Felicity. If you continue, my younger sister, Despair, will cast her shadow over your heart and mind.”_   
_“Why are you looking at the windows?”_   
_“There is someone behind them.”_

_Felicity got up and crossed the small courtyard. For the first couple of steps, all she saw was her reflection, slightly distorted in the old leaded glass, but the closer she got, she saw. It was Oliver. He was standing so tall and straight, like he was waiting for something or someone to spring out of the shadows. His gaze was what pulled at her heart. Those beautiful blue eyes, ones she had spent countless hours looking into, held such a deep sadness now._

_If there was one thing Oliver was so careful of, it was in hiding the way he felt about the Havenrock guilt she carried. He wanted to help but didn’t know how. He wanted to make things better but knew she had to do the work. Here, where his defenses were low, she was able to see the impact it was having on him._

_But she couldn’t do what was being asked for him. She had to do it for Havenrock’s dead and for herself. She needed to speak their names, make them real for both her and Oliver, and maybe that way release them into Death’s care._

_“I think I know what to do,” she said softly, raising her hand to the glass as if she could touch Oliver through it, “it won’t be easy, for him or I, but I think I know what to do.”_   
_“I am glad,” Dream murmured, “My sister is patient but she is also keenly aware of how this is slowly dimming the light within you.”_

_After a moment’s thoughtful silence, Felicity said, “So is this goodbye?”_   
_“It is the end of our conversations, but I will drop in from time to time,” Dream smiled._   
_“I would welcome it,” Felicity grinned._   
_“Let Oliver be there for you, Felicity, I watch his dreams, too. He will do whatever it is you want him to do.”_   
_“I will. Goodbye, friend,” she said warmly._   
_“Farewell...Ms. Smoak,” Dream said with a smile._

_Felicity blinked and darkness remained as she floated softly back to join Oliver._

 

II

Waking up from this particular dream was one filled with purpose and a deep desire to join Oliver in the future where she was sure he was truly waiting for her. She secretly enjoyed the moments where they flowed past one another, each taking the lead and then following the other. This time, she was reaching for the hand being offered and she hoped she wasn’t too late to grasp it and pull herself clear of the wreckage in her mind and heart.

One glance at Oliver told her all she needed to know about his state of wakefulness. His light snoring and complete stillness, even as she shifted to a sitting position, meant he was deeply asleep. She wanted to stay next to him, warm and content under the blankets, skin on skin, but she needed to move. A restlessness had settled into her, making her muscles jump and twitch with nervous energy.

What she wanted was a bath. A long, hot soak in the copper tub and watch the day shift from day to night above her. Gathering up her shed clothing, she made her way to the bedroom and searched out the small vial of scented oil she had bought in Pompeii. It smelled of roses, fennel and myrrh, ancient and alive. It was comforting and calming and exactly what she needed.

With the door closed behind her, she filled the tub and added just a few precious drops of her perfumed oil. If Oliver was as asleep as she expected he was, she would have to leave the door slightly ajar for him to hear her. Spying the candles on the lip of the tub, she opted to light them instead of turning on any lights. Sunset was rapidly falling and the light, though still bright, was slowly gaining a darkened orange hue.

With the steam rising from the water into the cooler air of the cabin, Felicity quickly put her hair up in a bun and slipped into the deep, copper tub. It’s dimensions were deceptive, given as it was built into the room itself, not placed as other tubs tended to be. Oliver would fall in love with it, she thought as she laid her head back and stared up at the sky.

The dream of ghosts drifted back to her. She was committed to setting them free, to letting them rejoin Death at the gates to whatever lay beyond. It wasn’t just that it was time, or even the right thing to do, it was about survival and wanting to live. It was earlier, on the couch as Oliver made love to her, that she felt that burning urge to live. To finally, really live in the present. It was in the way he touched her, like he was breathing life into every cell in her body. It rejuvenated and humbled her.

With her eyes closed, Felicity let her mind grow still. It would be hard but she knew exactly what to do now, thanks to the gentle but persistent guidance of the Endless siblings. Their visits, while at first unsettling, had become a comfort as she unraveled anpathway through the labyrinth of pain and grief in her subconscious. Thanks to their patience, she was saw the way out.

Felicity was lost in the silence of the small room, so much so that she failed to hear Oliver calling to her until he slipped into the tub room. She saw the worry in his eyes but upon her invitation to join him, he stopped to give her a gentle kiss. He lingered for just a heartbeat and then stripped down to join her in the tub.

It was deceptively deep and accommodated both of them and the copper somehow managed to keep the water hot. Once he had settled in behind her, she leaned back and let her head fall onto his shoulder. She knew every contour, every slope and plane of Oliver’s body and this felt as natural as breathing.

In the quiet of the room, she heard birds singing in the forest. It was the first time she had heard songbirds this late in the day and maybe the first time during the entire vacation. Whatever they were, they were beautiful and she could listen to them all day if only they would sing. It meant the sky was clear and the night would be calm.

One of the rituals she most loved was when Oliver washed her back. It was loving and intimate and so gentle it filled her heart with wonderment and joy. This time, he patiently traced every scar, every lingering hurt, with a tenderness that made her pant softly in shock. The pass of his fingertips sent electric shivers through her body. It was rejuvenating and it was what she needed to set her free.

It was like he was asking for her forgiveness while at the same time granting it to her. She could feel the love flowing between them and it gave her courage and confidence for the difficult hours ahead.

Oliver quietly told her he loved her and she immediately teased him. She couldn’t help herself some days and it was always worth it to hear what his comeback would be. When he went full ego, she groaned and rolled her eyes. It was time to get out of the tub but she used it as an excuse, laughing quietly at his bravado.

She was starting to understand Oliver’s obsession with tubs but couldn’t help teasing him when he got distracted by it when she was talking to him. It was the only thing that pulled his attention from her and it made her happy. Truly, deeply, madly happy. That something so simple could provide him so much joy, it was a blessing. A quiet pleasure that required nothing from either of them. It simply...was.

On whim, after she had left him to get dressed in the bedroom, she called out to him, asking him when he was going to teach her how to cook. She knew he might slice off a finger in shock but every now and then, she liked to ask. Now, after all she had shared about how her mom had forgotten to provide food for her as child, she knew he would say yes. She made her way back to the kitchen, where he was, just to see his face as he agreed.

Wandering back to the bedroom to pack, Felicity let herself feel what it might be like to feel peace and the soft joy that came with it. She could hear Oliver in the kitchen getting their dinner ready and finally let the sounds of him moving in the small space and savory aroma of whatever he had in the oven become not just familiar but welcomed.

She had held them in a special place reserved for only the rarest of wonderful things. But if she and Oliver were to succeed, truly succeed and thrive as united couple, she needed to integrate these moments into her life as deserved and earned instead of unique and rare.

Which was partly behind her desire to have him teach her how to cook. Not just to repair the damage of her childhood but to push them closer together through something as simple as preparing a meal. Oliver’s love of cooking was precious to her, but sharing in that passion was important. Plus, on nights when he was busy doing mayoral things, she could fend for herself instead of ordering take out.

Satisfied that she had packed all of their stuff and had left out clothes for them to travel in the next day, Felicity wandered back to the living room. Oliver was standing in front of the fireplace, slowly stoking the fire from embers to a roaring flame. He took her breath away. The light of the building fire pushed around him, showing the broadness of his shoulders and the way his thigh muscles moved and flexed as he leaned forward to put the fire poker away.

There wasn’t a square inch of his body that wasn’t layered in muscles. His physical strength was almost supernatural. The things he could do as simply as breathing should be impossible given the rules of physics and sometimes gravity, but he seemed to fly and propel himself to heights that no one should be able to reach.

She had explored his body so many times with her fingers, lips, mouths and tongue. She knew his scars, his burns and healed gunshot wounds and the stories behind them just as intimately as she knew the way his fingers felt inside her or the way his breath felt on her neck. But it was the man she loved, not just the parts. For all his imperfections and mistakes, she could only see how perfect he was in this moment.

Breaking the spell she was casting on herself, Felicity slowly approached Oliver, watching him and how absorbed he was in the fire he had built. Not wanting to distract from the moment, she offered to find some music on the radio. She hoped she could find an AM station that played old jazz. It felt like the right kind of music for the moment. A quick search down the dial, she found exactly what she was looking for. Billie Holiday’s sultry voice drifted through the cabin as she turned back to Oliver and sought out his embrace.

Dinner smelled amazing and at that moment, that was all she wanted. Food. Oliver’s food. It nourished her mind, body and soul. She could feel her mouth starting to water as he removed tray after tray from the double stacked ovens in the kitchen. Oliver knew his way to her heart and it often involved goat cheese and spinach.

He had made them a tapas style diner. Light and filling bites of tiny quiches and good bread. She was trying to focus on what Oliver was saying but all she could smell as the goat cheese quiches. It was when she reminded him of his meeting with the city’s comptroller that she saw real fear flicker across his face.

Alan Campbell was a small, middle aged man who had probably never seen the inside of gym in the last ten years or knew how to load a gun. Yet, with a simple glance over top of his readers, he could strike fear so deep into Oliver’s heart, that he would start to sweat. For some reason, in the flickering firelight, Felicity could not stop the laughter from bubbling up and out of her.

So she laughed and laughed even as he growled a warning. A small, mild mannered man was Oliver’s Achilles Heel and it was absolutely delightful. Finally, as her tears stopped and the laughter had worked its way out of her, she made her way across the couch and onto Oliver’s lap to wrap him in a hug. She loved to tease him but part of the fun was the making up afterwards.

She whispered as much in his ear and felt his body freeze. She kept her low chuckle of recognition to herself. The way he responded to the mere promise of something more, even now, caused a flush to rise up her neck. But then he mentioned the chocolate cheese cake and all sexy thoughts disappeared from her mind and she all put bolted to the kitchen to find it herself.

With a gentle kiss that lingered just long enough for her to think wistfully of a day long ago in an alley where he had first asked her out on a date, Oliver got up and retreated to the kitchen to get their dessert. He turned away from her before seeing the flicker of sadness that crossed her face. That moment was a distant memory but a sweet one. One free of all the horror that followed and the long, lonely nights where she cried herself to sleep thinking that happiness would forever evade her grasp.

She knew he watched his sugar intake and teased him for his desire to go for a run. He wasn’t just fit, he was a picture of perfection in her eyes. But so was the cheesecake and it took all her willpower to not lick both of their plates clean. Just when she was contemplating doing it at the expense of her pride, a flicker in the light coming in from above and remembered the loft space above.

They had yet to explore the space above them and now, on the last night, she was curious, and decided to head up to inspect it. Oliver was cleaning up and making sure their recycling and food scraps were secured behind locked doors, so she turned the radio off, grabbed a candle and book of matches, let him know she was going up to check it out.

The stairs weren’t steep but they curved around one of the large, log support pillars and eventually she stepped out onto a short bridge that connected the stairwell to the loft area that was nestled up under the skylights and rafters. She was expecting to find a couch or couple of chairs and maybe a small table but that is not what she saw and was immediately disappointed they hadn’t ventured up those stairs much earlier.

There was a low standing bed positioned directly under the skylights and it was voluminous and covered with pillows and a white faux fur throw. The fire, though slowly dying, was still hot and the air was warm up in the small, open space. Felicity kicked off her slippers after lighting the candle and slipped under the blanket. She felt swallowed up by the bed and wished more fervently that they had discovered this space earlier.

The sky had caught her attention as it shifted from mauve to indigo. It was slowly making way for the stars to join them and she was lost in the shifting depths and colours. When Oliver quietly made his way up to join her, she almost didn’t hear him. It was the creak of the stairs that pulled her back to her body and she welcomed him beside her on the bed. His warmth and solid comforting embrace was sometimes all she needed to feel safe.

They mused for a moment about the desert sky they had slept and loved beneath a lifetime ago and quietly welcomed the coming of the night. She felt Oliver’s growing tension and prodded him gently for an answer. He made a painful joke regarding his sexual prowess but slowly began to tell her about a dream he had earlier in the day.

She looked up at him, watched his eyes shifted to a dark, velvety blue and felt their pull. He had dreamt of their private courtyard and the beach house in Klamath. If there was one thing neither of them needed reminding of it was their shared love of both spaces. Felicity made a note to check on the availability of the Klamath house for later in the year.

But she knew there was more to it. He had murmured something under his breath as he slept and she strongly suspected that he was still receiving nightly visits from their two Endless friends. Two friends who were relentless in their pursuit of them revealing their hardest and darkest truths. Oliver admitted to their presence in his dreams but that all they had told him was to be ready for her when the words finally came.

Yesterday, she would have deflected all of this, found a way to get his attention on anything else, but now she wanted to. She just needed to figure out how, once and for all, just to find the peace she needed in order to survive. But there was still a vestige of fear left in her heart and mind, one that was stubbornly holding her back. Oliver, to his everlasting credit, didn’t push her. He kissed the top of her head and let her know that whenever she was ready, so was he.

Death and Dream had done a wonderful job getting them ready to be in this place together. She finally felt the safety in her mind that she had lost the night Darhk unleashed all of the world’s nuclear arsenal. That comfort, of trusting her thoughts and abilities, had been thoroughly compromised that she had wanted to run away but instead she had retreated inward, creating distance and growing unease between herself and the world around her. But most importantly, it had pushed her away from Oliver even as he stood his ground and refused to be moved.

Absentmindedly, she played with the helm of his shirt. It was what she did when she could feel the neurons in her brain start to heat up, threatening a firestorm of activity. Through the rush of anxiety, she suddenly saw an image from a long ago dream. It was like looking through water at a shifting landscape of colour, but she could remember the smell of the earth and flowers of the meadow she had dreamed of in Ivy Town and a few times after they returned to Star City.

She had never seen this particular meadow before but if given the opportunity to find it, she would know it just by the scent of the flowers and the way the breeze felt on her skin. It was where she went when she was searching for someplace quiet and peaceful. It was the courtyard if it were in the world, free and allowed to exist for itself and not for them. And always, as she walked in the warm sunlight, Oliver would be waiting in the centre of the meadow. He was who she was walking towards.

On a whim, she told Oliver about the dream. How it might change location but the meadow, the field, was always the same and within it was him, always him. He knew there was more to it and gently encouraged her to continue, not pushing or prodding, just a soft understanding that she was trying to protect them both from the sad truth that Havenrock had killed the dream. It had fled her mind, letting grief and guilt destroy her peace.

In a hushed voice, Oliver told her that he believed she could find her way back, that he knew she could figure out how to do it. She sat up and looked back down at Oliver. The universe was alive above them and in the gathering darkness in the loft, it looked like his skin was reflecting light back up into the sky. He was beautiful and all she wanted to do was curl back into his embrace and let his calm strength support and heal her.

Instead, she took a deep breath and admitted her fear. That for all her desire to finally be whole, she was still too afraid to try. He didn’t say a word but instead offered his hand for her to hold. Looking at him, feeling the calming energy he was so freely sharing with her, she at first couldn’t see his scars. They had faded in the silver light, leaving him free from the armour he wore to keep everyone else at bay. She shivered in a soft breeze that had found its way inside the cabin. The fire had died down but she could still feel its radiating heat.

The first name tumbled out of her, like it was pulled from her body. The second name rushed out, past her lips, and flew off to join the one set free before it. Felicity held onto Oliver’s hand, gripping it tightly between her own in an effort to not fly away, leaving him once and for all. He sat up as she set the third and fourth names free. She caught the look of horror and sadness that crossed his face as he began to realize just what she was doing.

She was setting the residents of Havenrock free, one by one. She had carried them in her heart for all these long months, tending to them, feeling their confusion and sorrow. It was the only way she could be sure to let them go, to let Death take them to the next world. She remembered the families, the ages, the jobs and relationships. She had memorized them all.

Closing her eyes, Felicity gave in to it all. She gently named the children, lovingly named the grandparents, tenderly named all the adults, teenagers, mothers, fathers, everyone who had perished that terrible night. Tears slid unnoticed down her face. All that mattered was honouring the dead so that their souls could finally be free.

Her throat was growing dry and cracking around the edges but still the names fell from her lips and became a reality. She listed the Broughton family, all the Smiths, the Johnsons, the Steins. She bounced around the alphabet, naming the souls as she had learned them. Her private joke was that life didn’t happen in alphabetical order, so why should her list?

Even from behind closed eyes she could feel that the air was sparking with energy. Every few minutes, she felt a static charge as the words seemed to setting fire to the starlight and then vanishing into ash on the breeze that was now blowing steadily through the loft. After a couple of hours of continuous recitation her voice finally began to give out. Oliver gestured for her to wait one minute, she nodded and he was gone in a flash.

The resulting silence gave her an opportunity to reconnect with the space around her. The soft but persistent breeze was growing fainter. At one point, as she had intoned the names of infants burned to ashes in a maternity ward, the breeze had become strong enough to move her hair off her shoulders. It blew through her as first name was spoken into existence. Some of the newborns had no last name, and a rare few were simply known as Baby Doe. What broke her heart all over again were the ones that she knew were born but had yet to be recorded and the ones who had yet to even be born.

New tears were falling by the time Oliver returned to the loft but she smiled when she saw what was in his hands. She gratefully took the water bottle he offered and a handful of kleenex so she could blow her nose. They were simple things but exactly what she needed most. The water instantly eased her parched throat and let her wet her dried lips. She had a long way to go but at least she could make it the rest of the way with Oliver’s help.

With a deep, centring breath, Felicity began the act of naming again. It was as the moon travelled past its zenith and midnight came and went that Felicity felt something shift in the air around them. She looked up at Oliver and saw both love and respect mirroring back to her and for the first time in months felt the stirrings of something close to joy welling up from somewhere she had thought she had lost access to on the night the bomb fell.

Time was slowing down, and the longer each second stretched out the lighter she felt. It was like each name she released took the weight of a city of ghosts off of her shoulders. She felt freer as the minutes slowly changed. Her tears stopped falling as the final names were spoken. She stumbled only once, when she said the final five names and gave the soul of a ten year old girl to Death.

A protege in the making, she had reached grade twelve six years early because of her brilliance in math, chemistry and, of all things, literature and French. Felicity had researched her and all of her accomplishments and saw herself in all the articles and descriptions of her awards and creations. A brilliant mind and life cut far to short. Her name had been Jessica Schwartz and she had lived at ground zero with her mother, Elaine Schwartz, 38, her father, Ben Schwartz, 39 and her twin baby sisters, Sara and Ruth, 18 months.

As the sound of her voice faded away, it felt like they had entered into a holy place, a temple or shrine, where even sound retreated to show reverence and respect. She could hear their breathing, slow and steady, and felt the meditative peace that filled the space between them. It felt like love and the joy that brought her was, now and forever, enough to keep the grief away.

She would carry the residents of Havenrock’s memory forever, but the guilt she had assumed for Darhk’s actions was gone. The blame was never hers, not even by default. Oliver reached for her and she happily let him pull her into his arms and back down to the bed. She knew she didn’t have to, or need to, but she thanked him for listening to her recite all the names, for staying with her while she did what was so long past due.

All he did was tell her that he loved her and that he was honoured to have been the one she trusted to tell. Pushing herself up, she looked down at him in the darkness of the space between earth and sky and was reminded of how her life had changed so much for the better. She was out of words and out of a voice, so she did what came naturally and gave him a soft kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like joy.

Without another word, she eased back down beside him, pulling the faux fur throw up over them both. The air was warm in the loft, the breeze that had been so persistent was gone now that she had set all those souls free. As her eyes slipped closed, she wondered if maybe the souls themselves had created it as they flew home to Death. It was a comforting thought, that they had taken flight like birds, flying through the veil to rejoin their families.

She wanted to ask Oliver if he felt the breeze, too, but the steady sound of his heart beat under her ear lulled her silent. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of it as he slipped off to sleep, and knew they could see their way through anything now. They had made it through what was undoubtedly the worst experiences either of them would ever have, and had come out stronger, more united than ever before.

Their decision to sleep under the stars on this, their last night, was the right one. They had begun their trip around the world under a canopy of stars and now, as they stepped into the future it felt appropriate to begin again under the watchful gaze of the universe. So long as they were together, she knew that everything would be alright, even if they had to travel for a time on their own, they would always find their way back to one another. It was all about love and trust and all the ways they could share in them both because she was no longer drowning in the past, she was diving into the meaning of tomorrow.

Before finally letting sleep claim her, Felicity felt Oliver press a soft kiss into the top of her head while his body relaxed. She felt a surge of wild, limitless love flow through her and thought back to all the times that their dream visitors had commented on the connection between them and that the last sound of the universe would be one of love, a sound that they knew intimately and well. She hoped that they were correct because it was a song worth fighting for.

Sleep came quickly after that, and her dream, when it came was full of light and peace. That night, she dreamed about a meadow full of flowers and the quiet songs of birds. There was no city on fire, no screams of anguish and terror. Just a persistent soft breeze that carried on it the scent of cedar and the sea. Off in the distance, standing near the centre of the wide expanse she had created in her mind, was Oliver, waiting for her to join him.

 

III

Hours later, after the sun had risen so that the tops of the trees were only just now being touched by the early morning light, Felicity awoke to a silent but cool cabin. The fire, now thoroughly out, had kept them warm throughout the night as they slept. They needed to be on the road before lunch and given the way the sky looked, she guessed that they didn’t have much longer to lay in quiet repose.

“Oliver?” she whispered, “I think we need to get moving.”  
“Mmmhmmm,” he mumbled.  
“I think we slept for a long time, love, we need to get going.”  
“Mmmmhmmm,” he agreed.  
“Oliver,” she laughed quietly, “I don’t think we moved once we fell asleep. I’m going to need help getting up.”

With that comment, Oliver snapped from slumber to complete wakefulness. She almost felt bad for doing it, because she knew his immediate thought was that she was unable to feel her legs, but it got him moving. She was surprised at his reluctance to get up, usually he was up and out on a run or working out in the lair hours before she joined the day, but this morning he was content to sleep in with her.

“Are you ok? Are you able to feel your legs?” he asked, panic rising quickly in his voice.  
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, trying to calm him, “but my arm is asleep from sleeping on it all night.”  
“Felicity...lead with that next time.”

She smiled up at him and reached up with her one arm that could move. Oliver grasped her hand and pulled her up into a hug. She was happy to just sit like that, her head on his shoulder, safe and loved, in his arms. But the day was moving on without them and they needed to get back to Star City to carry on with the task of living.

“So, should we say one last goodbye to this place?” he asked quietly.  
“Well, if you’re quick…,” she teased.  
“I meant breakfast!”  
“Coffee and breakfast burrito sound good?” he laughed.  
“Sounds amazing. I need to brush my teeth and get changed, so five minutes?”  
“Five minutes,” he agreed, soundly kissing her on the neck before letting her go.

True to his word, the last of the coffee was made and the breakfast burritos from the day before were heated up and ready to eat. As soon as she smelled them, she was ravenously hungry and had to remind herself to slow down and chew. Oliver just shook his head in amusement and went to get ready for the drive home.

It was getting closer to their noon checkout then either of them thought so after a quick once over, they did the dishes, packed up the car, but stood quietly, arm in arm, facing the cabin as the sun washed over it from above the trees. Normally, she would have taken a picture or two to remember it but hesitated. This space held memories, dreams, lives and deaths. It was not something to be photographed just yet.

“So, when we get back to Star City, do you want me to drop you off at the office or at home?” Oliver asked softly.  
“At home, I think. I want to shower and get changed before joining the team.”  
“I wish we could stay longer.”  
“So do I,” she said softly, looking up at him, watching his eyes as they tracked a bird flying from tree to tree just beyond the cabin.

Oliver looked down at her and she found herself momentarily unable to breathe. There is a certain colour of blue that the sky turns just above the horizon on clear summer days. It shifts and changes as the day moves steadily on, even as the sky darkens and the sun beckons it home. It is fluid and deep. It hints at the vastness of space that surrounds the planet and the fathoms below the surfaces of the oceans. Here, in the shadow of the cabin, his eyes were that limitless blue.

“You ok?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.  
“I am more than ok. I love you, Oliver Queen.”  
“You just say that because I feed you,” he teased, even as his cheeks turned rosy.  
“Well yeah, but also because you are driving.”

Without another word, Oliver looped an arm around her waist and picked her up off the ground. She didn’t bother to protest this transgression because she had earned it but it delighted her that he could so effortlessly move her.

The drive back to Star City wasn’t a long one but it still went by far too quickly. It was at the halfway mark that it dawned on her that the Ducati might be in the lair already. Carefully, she checked her phone and saw a text message from Thea that contained two emojis: a thumbs up and a motorcycle.

“So are you headed to the lair right away?” she asked as casually as she could.  
“I don’t think so. I think I’ll do some prep work for the meeting on Monday first. I am...nervous.”  
“Ok, how about I join you around, say, 4 pm?”  
“Thank you,” he said in obvious relief, “Then to the lair?”  
“Sounds like a date.”

They arrived in Star City just a little after 1 pm. As soon as Oliver dropped her at home and had driven away, she frantically texted Thea and asked her to make sure the Ducati was hidden ell out of sight just in case Oliver made a quick stop in the lair. It was a surprise that she wanted him to have with her there.

Once inside her loft, she made quick work of her laundry and got ready for the night ahead. There was no telling just how long they would be in the Mayor’s office or how long the night would be once back on the streets, so she opted for comfort over her usual heels and skirt.

What she really needed to do was check her emails and see just what she has missed but her phone was out of juice and the long, hot shower had made her drowsy. They had slept so much in their mini-vacation but she still felt sleepy and ready for bed at three in the afternoon.

Just a quick nap while my phone charges, she thought as she curled up on the couch, I have time before I have to meet Oliver at his office.

Sleep grabbed her fast and she slipped into a dreamless sleep. There were no screams of agony, no forests of ghosts, all there was as darkness pulled her through the veil of slumber. It was peace and calm. 

A persistent knocking at the door woke her up, confused and groggy, but the loft was still bathed in light so she hadn’t slept the night away. With a quick stretch, to work out the kinks and stiffness in her back and legs, Felicity made her way over to the door and opened it.

Oliver was standing, stock still, behind it. His eyes were shining but she couldn’t read his expression right away. Just as she was about to ask, he let the smile he was trying to contain burst out of him.

“What?” she asked, mystified, “Why the big smile?”  
“Ducati,” was all he said as he stepped across the threshold and wrapped her into a tight embrace.  
“Nooooooo!” she exclaimed in dismay, “I wanted to be there to show it to you!”  
“I got there as Thea was trying to find a spot to hide it,” he laughed as he closed the door behind him with his foot.

As he set her down and cupped her face, he was smiling almost too large for words to be formed. All disappointment she might have felt fled as she looked up at him. All the plans she had in surprising him and taking him up to the courtyard for a simple, but romantic dinner failed to register as mattering. All that mattered was this moment.

“Did you try it out?” she asked, her voice husky and low.  
Leaning down so that his lips were a mere inch from hers, he asked, “How do you think I got here?”  
“In your suit?” she asked, angling her head up a fraction so that she could close the distance between them.  
“I would have ridden here in the nude.”  
“Now THAT would make quite the dramatic headline on the news,” she chuckled against his lips.  
“And it would have hurt,” he murmured as he finally crossed the small space between them and kissed her until her knees started to shake.

“I should buy you things more often,” she mused as their lips parted.  
“You need to save your money.”  
“Oliver, you needed that one. Your old one was melted to sludge after that warehouse explosion.”  
“That feels like a lifetime ago,” he chuckled as he took her by the hand and lead her up the stairs to her bedroom.  
“Oliver, your office is in a completely different direction,” she teased.  
“That can wait.”  
“I am guessing you’re feeling more confident about your meeting now?” she murmured as she watched him walk up the stairs in front of her. He was wearing his navy suit which meant he was wearing suspenders and he knew her thoughts on them.

“Thank you, Felicity,” he said softly as they entered her bedroom.  
“You don’t have to thank me, Oliver, you know that. Not for the bike and not like this,” she stammered. He was looking at her differently and she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that had changed.  
“I know. On both counts. But sometimes, it’s the only way I know how to show you how much I love you,” he said in a low voice, “and the ride over…”  
“I think it might be your new Ducati that you want to make love to,” she smiled as she ran her hands up his chest and under his suspenders. She could feel the way his muscles twitched and jumped under her touch.  
“One day it will be you on that bike,” he whispered, slightly unfocused and quiet.  
“Promises, promises,” was all she could get out before Oliver pulled her into a deep, but tender kiss.

It reminded her of the first kiss they shared when they left Star City for a new life together. They had stopped at a hotel 500 miles away on the edge of the state where the mountains slowly lowered to the ground, giving way to open fields, the high Plains and the biggest skies she had ever seen. It was a kiss full of joy, promise and love.

She remembered those days when nothing could stop them. Where they rejoiced in every stolen glance, every small and secret smile as they raced towards the future together. She teased Oliver that he was driving like he was going to find treasures hidden around every curve and corner. He had laughed and on and on they went, travelling across miles of open road.

She let him slowly undressed her in the middle of the room. She wanted him to hurry, she wanted to touch his skin, to feel his hands on her body, his lips on her skin, but she deliberately let the tension in her body build, marvelling at the way it felt to be loved in this way. She was so mesmerized by just the thought of him, by the reality of their lives that she almost didn’t feel him take her by the hand and lead her towards the bed.

“You are almost comically overdressed, Oliver,” she murmured.  
“I am, aren’t? I should remedy that,” he said in mock seriousness.  
“I want to see you,” Felicity said softly, hoping he knew what she meant.

The sun was setting, filling the loft in a fiery, golden light. As she watched Oliver remove his shirt, he was surrounded by it, the light flooded every angle and plane of his body, revealing a sculpted form that seemed move like molten metal. He turned around to lay his pants over her bedroom chair and she watched the way the sun crossed his back, as it flowed over his scars and brands.

Her breath caught in her throat as he turned back towards her. For just a heartbeat’s length of time they stood perfectly still and looked at each other. She wasn’t sure what he saw, but to her eyes, he was glowing.

“Take off your briefs,” she said in deep, breathy voice.

Without breaking eye contact, Oliver slipped them down his thighs and off. He was a roadmap of horror to the untrained eye, but she now knew every story behind every mark, every scar, every brand and tattoo. She had read his body with her fingertips so many times, she knew it by touch in the darkest of nights. For her, for now and forever, he was flawless, unscarred and dazzling, he was a complicated man but in that moment he was hers.

“Felicity,” he began in a low, gentle voice, “you humble me just by being.”

It wasn’t so much that he knew exactly what to say, but his timing was perfect. Nothing about their lives together would ever be simple and she savoured the thought of what their journey would be like. He was fire and water, air and earth. He was strength and beauty and he was able to humble her by simply being but right now, she felt worshipped by him.

Without so much as word, he guided her to foot of the bed, stood in front of her and ran his hands along the length of her body. He tenderly stroked her breasts, brushed his fingertips ever so slightly over her nipples, swept down her torso, around her hips, and slowly caressed her back. She knew he wanted her to ask him why he was doing this, she could see the lingering question in his eyes, but she remained silent. She could scarcely breathe as his hands grazed delicately across her belly and back up her body.

Using the size of his body, Oliver moved them both onto her bed. She didn’t need much encouragement. The intensity of how he was looking at her, the way he was touching her was slowly unleashing a desire for him she wasn’t sure she had ever felt before. It was wanton, chaotic and so soul searingly deep that all she could see, all she wanted was him.

Tenderly, he traced the shape of her face, her lips, ran one finger down the length of her neck and smiled as he kissed her, gently parting her lips with his tongue. Felicity moaned into him, feeling the way it vibrated throughout his body. For all her desire for him, she found herself unable to move, not because of the weight of his body on hers, but because of the way he had seduced her into stillness.

Oliver was intent on simply focusing on her pleasure, her body and she gave in to his insistence. She felt his lips on her neck, her breasts, her abdomen and finally, almost delicately, he parted her legs to make room for him there. Gently, he enveloped her with his mouth and let his skillful tongue slowly circle and dive into her most sacred place. He rolled and rasped his tongue gently around her clit, holding her hips still and savoured her with each scorching caress. She felt more than heard the deep moan that found its way out of her as his tongue found its way into her once more.

With the softest of breaths and slowest of movements he took his mouth away from her and breathed her in. Not once did he close his eyes or look away from hers as he languidly stroked her, licked and tasted her. He pushed his tongue into her once more, and drank her in as though she were sacramental wine and he was begging for her forgiveness. She felt herself begin to tighten and pulse around him, her breathing growing more ragged and shallow in the quiet room.

Reaching down with shaking hands, she grasped his hair and moved her hips, grinding against his mouth, until she found a rhythm of their own making. She was so painfully close, she could feel her thighs starting to shake and wanting to squeeze around his head as he continued to explore her with his tongue,  and she watched him, reveled in the sight of him, the great, mighty warrior, her divine hero, kneeling in supplication between her legs with his mouth wrapped around her clit.

Just as her body began that delicate flex, where she seemed to fold in on herself right before she shuddered and the ebb and flow of her orgasm took over, he tightened his hold on her hips, clamped down on her and sucked. It was like a tsunami crashed down on her, one that she lost herself to, and it was a wave that he rode out by continuing to roll and thrust his tongue into her, dragging her over the edge of reason into pure ecstasy.

Her body was still singing as he slowly made his way up her body to her lips. His lips were warm and soft where he kissed her. Goosebumps ran the length of her body when she felt the ridged hardness of his cock as it nestled gently against her. Almost hesitantly, he pushed into her and she marveled at how her body fit around him like a glove. She felt every little movement, voluntary and otherwise, as she welcomed him, drawing him in, joining them together.

Her hands moved back up into his hair and, just as she pulled him down to kiss him, she watched his eyes dilate and grow dark with something approaching ecstasy. She rolled her hips down the length of him, tracing their names against their bodies. Looking up into his eyes, she became lost in his gaze. He filled her night sky in the now darkened room.

Oliver began to breathe deeply into his chest; trying to control his body and hers with every slow, powerful thrust of his hips. She smiled as he slowly lost the battle with his self-control. She felt his cock swell and twitch inside her as his hips began to move fast and and hard, slamming into hers. The pressure was building in her pelvis, low and fiery. A burst of heat radiated out and just as Oliver let out a shuddering groan, she tightened around him, squeezing down hard, and she went limp in ecstasy, her body flooded with a happiness she never thought possible.

Pressing her forehead to his, Felicity looked into him, locking onto a secret part of his soul that she knew he thought long since dead, and her body trembled and jolted once again. In her quietest of voices, she whispered, intoned in a single breath, that she loved him body and soul, that she loved his secret parts, the darkest corners he tried to hide, that she loved them all. She was in love with him, only him, always him. And, just like that, with a single shared breath, she felt their spirits join.

  
Felicity searched for his eyes and found what she has been looking for since they had found each other again. She glimpsed the essence of him, flitting through the sky blue of his gaze, no amount of damage done to him could ever eclipse the basis of who he was and the depth with which he loved. She was so honoured that of all the people in his life, he had chosen her to share who he really was with. With a deep groan, she felt the mounting tension and friction between their bodies. Oliver gasped out her name, said with so much love and wonder, and in a series of rapid thrusts, found his way to ecstasy.

  
With her eyes closed, she tried to stem the tears that had suddenly sprung up. Oliver had set fire to her. soul, burning it to ashes, and raised her anew with his fiery love. She knew that if she asked for a piece of the galaxy, he would sail to the moon and walk through the Sea of Tranquility to search for it. Every risk they would make would be worth it just for moments like this, as the light of the moon shone through her bedroom windows.

  
They had repeatedly brought each other back to life over the past four years. Now, as she sought to convince him that that their lives were no longer a series of endings, that this time they could trust in each other and everything that he felt he lost was now found.  
Despite not knowing where their journey might take them in the future, she embraced it and welcomed the uncertainty. Every moment, every sigh, frown, laugh, all of it. She was finally ready for the rest of it.

“Felicity?” he murmured softly.  
“Hmmm?”  
“One week, when the city isn’t in flames and the city comptroller isn’t breathing down my neck, let’s go back to Klamath.”

Felicity looked up at him and smiled. “I would love that.”  
“Yeah?” he asked, nuzzling her nose, his eyelashes brushing lightly against her face.  
“Yeah,” she answered, searching for his lips for a soft kiss.

With a sigh, Oliver rolled onto his side beside her. It was still early evening, and they had to eventually get to the lair to go out on patrol, but she turned on her side to face him. Instinctively, she reached out to stroke his face, feeling the coarseness of his beard and the surprising softness of his skin. She loved his face, every line and scar on it, and felt she could spend the rest of her life looking at him, falling in love over and over again with each glance.

“Let’s just lay here awhile, ok?” she asked quietly.

Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist before saying, “Nothing would make me happier.”  
“We can shower later,” she whispered.  
“We certainly can.”  
“Oliver?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“I dreamed of the meadow again last night. You were there,” she told him, a tear slowly streaked across her face.  
“No more ghosts?” there was a hitch in his voice as he wiped her tears away.  
“No more ghosts.”

No more words were necessary, or even possible, so they lay in her bed, covered by a thin blanket. Oliver pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms, and spent the next hour making plans for the future. It was as he chuckled at her suggestion that they add a trapdoor in the garage to stop people from waltzing in and out of the lair unannounced, that she felt something she had let go of on that dark night when the bombs flew come back to her.

Hope. She felt the return of hope.

_Epilogue_

_Morpheus waited atop a spire deep within the realm he called home. From his vantage point he could see to the very edge where the horizon writhed with fog and something darker. The nightmares he tried to keep under his control screamed and fought to be set free. He cast his gaze deep into the heart of maelstrom and pulled them back under control. The mortals who were prisoners of the demons in their minds railed against the intrusion but soon went silent and still._

_A pair of jean clad legs stretched out beside him and a soft sigh floated to his ears. His sister usually announced her visits but this time she was more subdued and depressed. He hazarded a look at her and was surprised to see her looking subdued and tired. As Immortals, tiredness was an affectation, an expression worn to show something felt inside. This was troubling to him as she was never one to emote in such a way._

_“Sister,” he said quietly while casting tiny grains of sand into the swirling winds, “you seem...sad.”_   
_“Not sad, just...I don’t know the word. Melancholy? Morose?”_   
_“How come?”_   
_“It took a long time to settle the Havenrock folks. They were...lost. So….lost. Felicity took care of them, but they were falling apart.”_

_Dream remained silent. He knew his sister. She had more to say and would say it when she was ready. He would wait because he valued her presence and her counsel when needed and offered._

_“I heard Felicity list off all the names and I waited for them to come to me, one at a time,” she continued, brushing an errant strand of hair from her jean clad legs, “the one thing I did see was that our sister, Despair, faded. Her song is gone from both Oliver and Felicity’s ears.”_   
_“I had noticed her silence in their dreams,” he agreed. “I am relieved.”_

_Just then a swirling gust of wind flowed past, carrying on it the scent of daisies and lavender. Sometimes, deep in the inner parts of his realm, meadows spring up. Vast ones, full of wildflowers, tall grasses and warm sunshine. He knew Felicity sometimes dreamt of such a space and hoped she was wandering through a field chaotic with colour and life._

_“I hope she can finally be happy now. I hope he can finally be happy, too,” Death mused as she watched a towering night terror take shape in the distance, “You gonna wanna deal with that?”_   
_“It’ll end soon. The person having it is an unrepentant racist. I have no interest in making his nights gentle.”_

_Death whistled low and long. “Damn, brother! You have gotten...churlish in your advanced age.”_   
_“I see his dreams and his nightmares. Both are repugnant.”_

_Death laughed at his dark expression. She always found humour in his painfully bad moods. He knew that humanity had had an effect on him, he just wasn’t aware it had become this visceral. Racists, homophobes, anyone who harmed children, they all were allowed to wallow in the filth of their dreams. They had earned the right to never find peace._

_“What about the evil we spotted earlier?” she asked suddenly._   
_“I think it has subsided. It is part of that city, I don’t think we will be able to prevent it from bubbling up again.”_   
_“Every hero needs a villain,” she mused._   
_“Apparently. But he also needs to find love.”_   
_“Do you want to go see them? One last time without them seeing us?” she asked quietly._   
_“I think so, yes.”_

_Dream took Death by the hand and together they floated down past the howling night terrors, the whimpering ghosts, the lost memories and into the wildly coloured meadow filled with every kind of wildflower imaginable. The light was bright but diffuse and the breeze was gentle. Standing in the centre of it, in a dress of thin white cotton, was Felicity. She had her arms open as though waiting to embrace someone._

_In the distance, a grey blur took shape and came forward. The closer it came, the more it became clear that it was Oliver making his way steadily towards her. It was like nothing could keep them apart, no distance real or imaginary. They were both smiling for only each other. Dream and Death noticed that the light grew brighter the closer they got until it was blinding. With a surging flash, they embraced each other, becoming beings of light._

_“Well...that was unexpected,” Death whispered._   
_“It was...I didn’t think…”_   
_“That they would find their souls so quickly?”_   
_“That and they would find so much peace in the chaos of their lives.”_   
_“You and I have seen soul mates before, brother,” she chided softly, “these two were destined from an entirely other life. They are joined in the other realms, the ones not even we can get to.”_   
_“They met the Old Man!” Dream exclaimed as they eased away from the intimate scene._   
_“I know! I was just as surprised as you! He rarely comes out from his world. I hope to meet him one day.”_   
_“If you do, dear sister, it will mean the end of us all.”_   
_“Will Oliver ever dream of that place with her in it?” Death asked softly._   
_“Only time will tell.”_

_Death rolled her eyes at his evasive answer and slipped her arm through his. She was not as comfortable here as he thought she was but sometimes the discomfort was worth it. She knew Oliver would eventually find his way to the meadow so that he could wait for her instead and for some unknown reason, that gave her great comfort. There should always be hope in some form in the lives of people who had earned the chance to be both alive and living._

_“Well, I have a date,” Death said cheerily._   
_“A...date?” Dream was momentarily caught off guard._   
_“Not a ‘date’ date,” she laughed, “I have a date to meet and a soul to collect.”_   
_“You sound happy?” Dream was genuinely confused._   
_“He’s a lovely elderly man I met my first night in Star City.”_   
_“Ah,” was all Dream said._   
_“Be well, Brother,” she said brightly, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “but now I must go. I want to be sure to get there in time to take his hand and dance with him as his soul leaves that plane. He will be meeting his beloved wife on the other side and she is wanting to dance with him before they are parted once more.”_

_Dream watched her go, her black hair and unruly cloud around her head. She had special things she did for souls she encountered and genuinely liked. Whoever this old man was, he had made an impression on his sister, one that was making her happier with each passing second. She more than understood the importance of life and the moment when it ended but if she could take the hand of one so special and make the passing easier, she would._

_Morpheus cast his star-filled eyes up towards the sky above him and searched for a crack in its seamless expanse. He had helped Oliver face the horror at the centre of his identity, made him shine a light on it to burn it out so that he could be the source of strength for Felicity. He had done it all and now could rest easy beside her._

_What a thing, Morpheus thought, to be so ready to fill one’s soul with love that you would face the darkest parts of yourself. Was it any wonder they had so much trust and respect flowing between them?_

_He paused and cast more grains of sand into the river that wound through the dreamlands. He wanted to be sure that wherever they were, the dreams that came were gentle and good. No more need for nightmares of screaming corpses for either of them. It was time to allow hope to become the mainstay, the driving force, in their lives again._

_If he could do nothing else, besides making sure Despair stayed away, it would be to allow them to dream of just how rich and rewarding their lives were together. He did have one secret hope: that they would return to Klamath. He wanted to see just what that place looked like besides an isolated paradise._

_Until then, he had dreams to catch and nightmares to unleash._


End file.
